


Death Child

by OblivionTime



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:31:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OblivionTime/pseuds/OblivionTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was never good enough. Not as a pianist nor as an Evans, heck, he wasn’t even good at being bad. Though he was a waste of oxygen, his brother never gave up on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! The prologue to my Evans bros fic is finally up! I want to thank Khaleesimaka on Tumblr for the extra pair of eyes.

**Death child**

_Prologue_

 

"This has gone on far too long." The man hiding behind a blue mask hissed as he paced within the small room. "This has to stop."

"No shit, Sherlock, what have we been doing for the last couple of months?" The woman wearing a green mask spat at the man. She stood up from her seat on the small single bed and crossed her arms over her chest. "He's too good. We can't stop him peacefully anymore."

"As if." The man grabbed a hold of his fabric mask and took it off. It fell to the floor and his hair sprang free. "I just haven't gotten the time to show him any of my godly moves."

"We outnumber him and use good teamwork, but we haven't been able to catch him." She followed his lead, taking off her of mask and placed it on the soft pink sheets. "His skills are outstanding. He's a pro."

"Pro?" He spat the word out as if it was poisonous. "He's messing with the dead. He's putting all of us in danger. A pro would know better."

"That's why we need to stop him _now_." She emphasised. "We can't stop him as we are currently. We need to step up our game. The time has run out and this needs to end immediately."

His interest peaked, blue eyes sparkling like the sun's reflection on the crystal clear ocean. "You mean…?"

She nodded. "Call Kid. It's time we bring in desperate measures."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Khaleesimaka for the extra pair of eyes going through this thing

**Death child**

_Chapter 1_

 

"You're wearing a black hoodie." Wes pointed out. His voice burst from the earbuds and the familiar low static associated from a radio on the wrong frequency hummed in the background.

His hands were deeply shoved in the pockets of his black pants and he blended perfectly among the stream of people moving inside of the noisy mall. With his hood pulled over his head, he efficiently protecting his striking white hair from the curious eyes of the public.

"Yes I am." Soul muttered into the microphone on the cord. "What of it?"

"Don't play dumb, little brother. It doesn't suit you." His voice sounded only for his ears to hear. "You better not do it."

Soul snorted. A woman with black curly hair glanced at him with suspicion at the sudden sound. He had to be more subtle. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He could feel his brother rolling his eyes from within his phone. "You're crazy. And all of this work for one chick."

Soul entered a supermarket and went right passed the carts and the shopping baskets. "It's not just some chick." Soul whispered into the microphone as he snaked through the aisles, scanning through the diversity of different foods. "It's _the_ girl."

"And I'm sure that _the_ girl of yours does approve of stealing."

No shit. A girl studying law would never approve of stealing. Not a girl with high morals and a pure heart as hers; she would never understand his reasons for stealing. Heck, he didn't even understood why she was around _him_ of all people.

A grin grew on his face, teeth shining through the darkness his hoodie casted over his face. His eyes casted on the cameras around the store and familiarly went to the only blind spot in there. "Of course she doesn't. She has brains and wits. Unlike me." He swung his backpack from his shoulders and it plopped loudly on the ground. "But what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"Look at me." He fished out his phone and Wes stared seriously at him on the broken phone screen with a filter that reminded him of the static on TV. The phone that proved to be completely broken to everybody's eyes. Except his. "You're shoplifting for a girl who's got her morals in the right places. I seriously doubt she would be pleased at the fact you're shoplifting to give her some stuff."

He rolled his eyes at his older brother's maturity. It made complete sense in his mind. Of course she wouldn't approve of him shoplifting. But… he had _nothing_. Nothing at all. She was a diamond and he was a piece of coal without the quality to do anything with. He'd nothing to offer her and he'd to at least come up with― with something _._ _Anything_. Even if he'd to dirty his hands, that was what he'd to do to keep her around.

"Just help me out, bro."

"You could get seriously hurt!" Wes hissed as if he was a snake spitting poison. "You're putting way too much on the line for _one girl!_ "

"She's not just one girl."

"Yeah, I forgot, she's your _soul mate._ If she truly cares about you, then she won't be sticking around for the little material you offer her."

"This is serious!" A mother with her baby in the shopping cart gazed at him suspiciously. Who wouldn't? He was having a screaming fight with a broken phone. Sheepishly he grinned toward the woman who slowly went passed the aisle as if she hadn't seen anything. "Dude," Soul whispered as he gazed at his brother. "You gotta have my back on this. Please."

Wes sighed as he crossed his arms over his torn and blood-stained suit. "I love you, bro, but this is madness."

"We'll be fine. We've always gotten away."

"But it only takes one time." Wes leaned closer and his sky blue eyes stared back at him. "And the consequences will be severe. I'm not going to let you get killed because of one girl."

"… but you're not here to stop me."

"Soul," he hissed loudly. "Don't."

"You can't stop me."

"I'm older. That makes me your superior. And I order you not to do it."

"You're not my boss."

"I am your older brother. That's the same thing."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is." Wes gritted through his teeth.

"No it's not." A grin grew on Soul's face.

"Yes it is. If you do it, I'll ruin your sexy time with your special friend."

Soul choked on his own spit, eyes narrowing into slits. "You wouldn't dare."

A sinister grin grew on Soul's face and he felt it was appropriated because if he was here, he would've been the keeper of his virginity. If he could decide his life, he would be a priest and die a virgin or a bachelor and fuck every person who gave him their consent. There was no in between.

"Yes I would."

"If you do, I'll throw away the phone and you'll never see me again."

The reaction was instant. Wes's grin was wiped from his face and turned pleading and sad. "No! I take it all back. You know I love you and I want you to be happy."

Even though he would never throw away the phone, he knew it was the only threat he could use against his brother to make him somewhat behave. One thing his brother wasn't allowed to mess with was his rocky relationship. And he sort of liked how much he reacted at the thought of being separated from him. Maybe.

"You're forgiven, bro." A grin grew on his face. "But I bet you won't like me now."

The time slowed down, Wes's eyebrows shot up under his blonde bangs and his mouth fell wide open as his nose wrinkled. Words never left his lips as every cell in his body shifted and the customers wandering the supermarket disappeared along with the noise. Eerie silence was the only thing left of the world he'd come to know over the past year. The shelves were still spookily filled with foods and items as it once was in the realm he'd lived in his whole life. Shelves that were filled just for him to take.

Exactly how he liked it.

"You're one persistent shoplifting bastard." Wes sighed loudly as Soul quickly grabbed the reason he had entered the supermarket in the first place; the box with different cheeses and crackers.

"Just cover me, will you?" He tossed the box in his bag and with lightning speed that defied human laws, he rushed toward the other side of the store. His eyes set on the more expensive brand of red wine, hurried back and carefully laid it in his bag.

"You're going to get yourself killed."

"Not if you're helping me." His body blurred from the speed as he got a pair of thick red candles from the register along with a lighter. The candles tumbled into his bag when the air pulsed as if a drop hit the silent surface of water once, then twice, three, five times as expected. The five damn cops of the unusual world decided to join him. As always.

Wes cursed as Soul quickly picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulders. "This is the last time!"

A grin spread on Soul's face. "Cool." He bolted. The force of his speed ripped boxes of cereal down from the shelves and on his way out, he grabbed a box of condoms and he was out in the equally empty mall in an instant.

But not for long.

"As soon as you're out of the mall, they'll spot you on the right." Within seconds, he bolted out of the mall like a rocket launching. Just as Wes predicted, there scattered on the street and on the roof tops, the five masked people he'd come to know ever since he discovered this world.

The different individuals with different coloured masks ran on the streets and on the roofs, heading toward his direction in full-speed to stop him from draining the other realm's resources.

He ran in the other direction. The force of the wind ripping at his hoodie covering his face and the cords leading from his earbuds to his phone.

"Wait up!" The high pitched voice of a male screamed from behind him.

No way in hell he'd do that. He had no idea what these kind of cops pulled at people who shoplifted in a different world, but it wasn't something he would want to find out.

"Get up on the roof." Wes said.

Soul nodded absently. He used all his might and jumped. He soared through the air and he landed on the roof of the three-floor apartment complex as if it was nothing. Only a moment later another pair of feet landed on the roof. Soul ran. Dodged chimneys. Jumped from roof to roof. The masked person only two steps away.

In the distance, roars of the deadly creatures resonated in the silent world. The moon above grinned wide and chuckled, enjoying the cats chasing the mouse.

Soul cursed loudly at the creature's roar. The cops had awakened the beast to come and hunt for him. "Hey, some help here." Soul hissed into his microphone. Shit. He couldn't get rid of this guy before the creatures reached the city.

"The others aren't following you."

"No shit. I can tell." Soul jumped on the mouth of a chimney and jumped over the large gap between two apartment complexes.

"They're trying to trap you again." Wes hurriedly said. "The guy's chasing you to the others."

"And you suggest?" He quickly jumped behind a chimney only to be followed with inches separating them.

"Like we always do." He could hear the grin in Wes's voice. That bastard enjoyed him being chased around the deserted version of Death City. "Lead and leave. The guy wants you to go forward, so you do. You'll have plenty of time to leave before the creature reaches the city."

"Gotcha." Without a shred of hesitation, he picked up his pace. Feet slapped loudly against the roof tiles and arms pumped by his sides. His breath was calm and collected, one of the many perks of the world he'd stumbled onto. The person chasing him allowed a gap to grow between them as he raced forward.

But they would soon regret that gap.

"A block from now, bolt toward the right," Wes said calmly into his ear.

Soul jumped to the next house and the blue-masked chaser followed. A grin grew on Soul's face. He pushed away and the tiles under his feet cracked loudly. He grabbed a hold of a telephone line above him, swung and used the momentum to leap toward the right. As he soared through the air, the guy behind him came to a shrieking halt. He landed on the roof and rolled.

"Get down in the first chimney and change."

Soul afforded one last glance behind him to see the chaser with the familiar blue mask wasn't chasing him. Quickly, he jumped down the chimney, out of the house, and bolted in an aisle to the sound of the eerie creatures stomps growing louder and louder. Every cell in his body shifted and the stomps disappeared and the comfortable sound of people wandering the streets came back.

A breath he didn't know he had been holding was released and his knees buckled. He sat down on the ground and pushed his hoodie off his head.

An easy and clean escape as usual. The supernatural cops were out of his hair and the creatures weren't even in the city. Another successful and safe shoplifting trip to the other realm just the way he liked it.

"That wasn't so bad," Soul whispered.

"Brother." Soul fished up his phone and saw Wes resting his head against the earthy background and his hand resting on his chest as if he had suffered from a heart attack. "This is the last time. No more."

He didn't answer. If he promised it, it would be broken when the money once again ran low and he was in need of stuff.

"Soul," Wes's voice strained.

"Let's just get back home." He stood up on his feet. He ripped his hoodie off his head and shoved it into his bag. He started to jog back toward his work area where he'd left his bike to stroll toward the mall a couple of blocks away. He arrived back and saw his orange motorcycle still parked outside of the fast food restaurant he was currently working at. The engine roared to life and he drove back to his home.

…

He pulled into the rows and rows of storages beside the mediocre apartment complex with cracks and old paint decorating its walls.

Too bad he wasn't there for the apartment complex.

He rolled up to row four and he killed the engine once he was in front of the storage number 42. He inserted his key and the garage door sounded noisily as he pushed the door up. The late sun exposed the futon with blankets and pillows on it and the few most precious cardboard boxes packed with his past life in a corner. Once inside, he parked his bike within his small home.

"Are you happy now?" Wes said.

He rolled his eyes as he noisily pulled the door down. "Still butthurt?"

"Butthurt?" Wes shrieked. "You put yourself in dangerous situations _for one girl!_ "

"Relax." Soul plopped down on his futon that acted as his bed. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and removed the earpieces, pulling the cord out of the phone. "I'm still in one piece, right?"

"You could get seriously hurt." Wes's voice boomed from the speakers of the phone.

"But I didn't." He unpacked his bag with his treasures he had managed to get from the other realm.

"It only takes one time, Soul. One time and you could end up killed by those monsters. _And all of these risks for one girl!_ "

"It's not just one girl." He sighed and placed the box of cheese and crackers along with the box of condoms. "She's a _law student_. She's earned a scholarship. Her father's the headmaster's secretary. He's making loads of money and he's showering her with it. She's a diamond and what am I?" He lowered his head and his stomach knotted and grew heavy as if he swallowed stones for each word. "I live in a garage. I work my ass off in a fast food dump and I can't make ends meet. I can't compete."

In her eyes, he was an adventure. The cute and law-abiding girl who everybody thought would never dare to do anything out of line, snuck out of her dorm room so she could shag the lowlife in his dump of a storage room. He wasn't boyfriend material. He was her boy toy. Her dirty little secret she enjoyed to shag behind closed doors.

"Last time I checked, if you're sleeping with the girl, there's something good she sees." Wes's voice softened significantly.

He snorted. "I'm just a tool for her to vent out when the good life gets too much. I'm just an interesting street rat for her to play around with."

"And she needs to vent daily, right? She wants her fill of 'the street rat', right?" Wes's blue eyes were soft as he stared at his younger brother.

"I don't know." He shrugged. He pushed back his far too long bangs from his eyes. "I don't even know anymore."

"You know as well as I do. She's into you."

"The only thing she's into is located between my legs."

"That's low. So she's got a high sex drive. Big deal. It's not like it doesn't mean she can't have feelings for you."

"But she doesn't."

"Drop the self-hatred stuff. It doesn't suit you." Wes grinned and flashed his picture perfect straight pearl white teeth. Teeth Soul had dreamed of having instead of his sharp ones clearly taken from a nightmare. "Listen, Soul, if it's someone who doesn't deserve the other between you two, it's _she_ who doesn't deserve _you_."

Soul's eyes widened and he stared astonishingly at his brother. "What?"

He spoke softly. "She doesn't deserve you. And do you know why?" Wes's grin transformed to a kind smile Soul associated with the multiple times he had fallen off his bike and all the times he had stood up toward his bullies and protected him. All the times he had told him he would be okay. "You've a big heart. You care enormously for the few people you let in. You'll risk your life for the people you care about. Even though they might not care about you."

He cringed at the last sentence. Even though he had repeatedly told him to piss off, he was always there. Always there to protect him. Even though he had hurt him so badly and run with the wrong people, Wes was there to save the day like some kind of superhero from a comic book.

"You have a heart made out of gold. I just know that she holds you dear. And you know what I would do if she hurt you?" He grinned playfully as if he was going in to tickle him. "I would haunt her."

Soul let out a dry laugh. "Maybe not haunt her."

"Oh yes, brother. Sheets and chains and all."

Heartily he laughed at the image of ghost Wes roaming around her dorm room in her student corridor, rattling his chain in the middle of the night. She would probably grab one of her books and hit him than get scared. She might look like a petty twelve year old girl with her pigtails and skinny body, but she possessed deadly skills and could whoop your ass with her right arm behind her back.

"But seriously, you're worth way more than some rich kid. Just because she's got a fancy education and gets fancy things from her daddy doesn't automatically make her into a golden prize. It's all in the soul." Wes tapped his chest right above his heart. "If she's beautiful inside, she's a diamond."

Soul grinned wide. "So I've gotta slash her up to find out―"

"That's not what I meant." He massaged the bridge of his nose. "Geez, of course you'd twist my words."

"I didn't do anything. You spoke the words."

"But you misinterpreted it."

"You made it possible for misinterpretation."

"Fuck you, brother."

He broke out laughing. Laughing so hard his stomach started to ache as Wes gave him his infamous stare of death. Wes could only roll his eyes and tried to cover up the constant twitching corners of his lips.

The garage door loudly opened and the pink sky came into view along with a silhouette. "What're you laughing it?" she said as she stepped inside, pulling the door down. In her hand hung a plastic bag with the red octopus logo from his favourite restaurant.

His heart fluttered as she went up to him, short skirt kissing her mid thighs and a smile radiating brighter than the sun. His mouth watered, maybe from her good looks or because of the amazing smell of food. "Nothing." He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head.

"That 'nothing' did sound like fun judging from your laughter." She took a seat on the futon beside him, greeting him with a kiss on his cheek. "I brought us food from The Dead Octopus." The plastic bag rustled as she picked up a white box and handed it to him. He untied his arms from behind his head and grabbed the box. "Tomorrow's your turn to come up with dinner."

"Actually." He pointed toward the discarded box of cheese and crackers along with the candles on the ground. "I was hoping I could bribe you."

"Lawyers don't accept bribes." She smirked wide and her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're fixing food. I'm craving some food from that camping stove of yours."

"You just want me distracted so you can snoop through my shit." The last time he'd made some food for them on the camping stove, she had opened one of the cardboard boxes holding his broken past and he'd exploded instantly. They had their first real fight and it ended with a dent in his skull and Maka angrily leaving with hot tears running down her cheeks.

She broke her chopsticks and opened the lid of her white box. "Perhaps." She fished up noodles and slurped them. "But only with your permission."

He tsked. "That defeats the purpose of snooping."

"Maybe I don't want to snoop." She bumped her knee with his. "I want to get to know the mysterious Soul Eater more. And I want to do it _with_ you, not to you."

The corner of his lips twitched and his heart swelled with joy. He quickly scooped noodles into his mouth.

"Geez, awkward as ever," Wes snickered from within the broken screen of his phone. "Just tell her how you feel instead of shoving your face with noodles."

He narrowed his eyes and glared toward the phone and flipped it. He was lucky only he could see and hear his brother trapped in the broken phone.

"I don't want to hurt you or invade your privacy like that again. I don't know what you're keeping from me, but I'm willing to wait till you're ready to open up."

He bit the inside of his cheek and his grip on his chopsticks tightened. "Thanks."

A smile spread on her face and she placed her tiny hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it. "I'm always here for you whenever you need me."

Oh ho.

He gulped loudly. "Y-yeah. Totally."

She placed her half-full box of noodles on the ground. She leaned her head on his shoulder and her silk hair tickled his exposed neck.

He covered her hand with his, thumb caressing the back of hers. His chest bubbled with pleasant with joy. There was one person who seemed to care about him except for his brother. Even though her feelings didn't match his, she was the light in his tunnel. The extended hand. His motivation and energy to keep waking up and do _anything_ with his life. His whole family was… gone. He was alone. And Maka entered his life like a whirlwind. She entered his life when he needed it the most. He had fallen quick and hard for her. He couldn't help it. She was so nice, funny and so uncool with her books. He never thought he would be into girls with pigtails looking like fifteen year old girls wielding deadly books, but he was.

Damn he was into her.

He placed the box of food on the floor when a new hunger grew within his heart. With his free hand, he tilted her cheek and captured her lips. She moved her lips against his and once again he was in heaven. A heaven that consisted of him and Maka, where the two of them made sweet love. The only time when he could entertain the thought that she loved him back. Her arms ran up his chest and through his hair. As their kiss grew rushed and passionate, Maka climbed up on his lap and he leaned backwards, giving her space for their hips to perfectly fit together.

He didn't complain. He was okay with being her special friend hidden in the shadows because not being near her at all would kill him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Death child**

_Chapter 2_

"You can handle a girl riding you, but you can't tell her how you feel." Wes's snicker poured out from his sport earbuds he'd... borrowed. "Seriously, bro, where're your priorities?"

Soul groaned as he killed the engine. "Right where they should be: out the window."

"No shit. So are your senses." He fished up his phone from his pocket to see a wrinkle appearing between We's eyebrows. "That bike of yours is a death trap."

"And so was that sport car of yours." He retrieved his keys and pocketed them in his jeans. The large red sign labelled 'Instant Death Burgers' rose high and he dragged his feet with dread at his ten hour shift.

"Hey, Harriette was safe!"

"As safe as you could be driving at 300 miles per hour into a concrete wall."

"First thing first, that was one time. And it was on the highway in the middle of the night."

"And one duck family crossing the street and we would've ended up dead."

Wes grimaced. "Come on, I would've run over them if it meant keeping my baby brother safe."

"Dude, you bawl your eyes out watching the Ugly Duckling."

"What? It's a good movie."

Soul rolled his eyes as he headed toward the employer's entrance. He knew Wes would never admit it, but he loved the ugly duckling. When they shared an apartment he would repeatedly wake up from his bawling and see him plastered in front of the TV watching the Ugly Duckling. Maybe it was because he saw so much of Soul in the Ugly Duckling. Personally he couldn't see a connection. At all.

Wes sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "But seriously Soul, I don't want you to prematurely die like I did because of a stupid motorcycle accident."

His heart twisted with pain and he came to a shrieking stop. He balled his hands, almost crushing the phone in the process. Eyes squeezed shut and head shaking madly, trying to shake off the terrifying memory of hot liquid and the bone-crushing grip and screams of uncensored pain ringing in his mind. Hot tears rose in his eyes and his bangs whipped his cheeks as he shook off the memory. No. He'd to be strong. It wasn't cool to cry. Weakness wasn't allowed anymore. He couldn't burden Wes more than he already had. It was his pain to bear. Not his.

"Soul…?" Wes concernedly asked.

He inhaled shakily and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm late for work." Even though Wes didn't say anything, the strained silence could fill book after book after book. Soul knew he cared. Heck, Wes was the one who cared the most about him. Throughout his life, there've been two people who care and love him, Wes and mom. Wes had gone to hell and back for him and he would sacrifice _everything_ for him. _Him!_ A damaged Evans boy that could never amount to anything. He wasn't like Wes. As many classic songs he played, as many clean and happy songs he wrote, as many social events he'd tried to socially engage in, he was never good enough. He _couldn't_ be as suave like Wes. He couldn't be as likable like Wes.

He couldn't be a worthy person like Wes.

A whistle caught his attention. He ripped his gaze from his shoes and saw the large muscular man leaning out from the back door. "Come to my office after you've changed." his boss, Joe Buttataki said and the door closed behind him.

"This doesn't sound like good news." Wes said.

"No kidding." Soul did as his boss asked. He went inside, got changed into his uniform and headed to his boss's office. He knocked on the door and twisted the doorknob after hearing his boss's approval. The door creaked open. Joe sat behind his cheap desk in his small office with cheap furniture with the expensive coffee machine in the corner. His pride and joy.

"Take a seat." Joe gestured toward the plastic chair on the opposite side of his desk. "Do you want coffee?"

"I'm good." Soul took a seat on the chair.

"Mr. Eater." he sighed and entwined his hands on his desk. "I don't mind your mail sent here. I don't mind you using our showers on a regular basis." He fished up a piece of paper on the desk. "But I don't like it when people steal."

Soul cringed and leaned forward. Crap. The inventory list. He thought he'd been careful.

"I told you you would get caught eventually." Wes spoke in his ear, the cord safely hidden under his uniform.

Geez. He didn't need to take it from both of them. "I'm very sorry, Sir."

"It's Joe." He leaned forward and collected the inventory list. "I won't report this to the police. And I won't fire you." He narrowed his eyes seriously. "But if you steal again, you're out the door before you know it. Without a cup of coffee."

He sighed with relief and the heavy weight in his stomach disappeared. Cash would still flow and fill his malnourished wallet. Joe was too kind. Any other boss and he would've been reported to the police and there would the last lifelines burn down to the ground.

"Got it. I promise it'll never happen again."

"And I hope you'll keep it." Wes said. "Unlike the _promises_ you make to me."

His fists tightened as he exited Joe's office. He hated lying to his brother― hated lying in general. His stomach twisted with disgust, slapped his hand against the wall not to fall over and empty his stomach on the linoleum floor. The dark days, when the moon was his sun and the sun was his moon. The dark days when he thought Wes was his archenemy.

…

The hinges on the window shrieked loudly and he slapped his heavy dark boots on the windowsill. The cool air hit his exposed cheeks and the moonlight seeped through the branches. The night blue silk curtains flickered in the wind. He jumped out of the window and the branch creaked under his weight. Repeatedly the leaves rustled as he climbed down the tree. He thudded as he landed on the ground.

A rap on the window made him jump ten feet in the air. He spun around only to see his older brother in his ridiculous pastel blue nightshirt. Rushed and familiarly the window slammed open.

"Again? Seriously?" he hissed. Eyebrows narrowed almost into an unibrow.

"Fuck off, will yah?" He was about to leave when long slim fingers wrapped around his bicep, ripping him back.

"Those _punks_ aren't your friends. They don't give a fly's ass what happens to you." Roughly he pulled him closer, grabbed his shoulders to the point of his nails digging into his leather jacket. "They don't care about you!"

"Get off me!" Soul shrugged his hands from his shoulders. "You don't even know them!"

"I don't have to. It's not hard to spot abusive junkies." He swung his leg over the windowsill, flashing his crutch in the process. Soul looked away from the gross image of his brother's privates. To his disadvantage, it allowed Wes to dive his hand into his leather pocket. He snapped his head back and eyebrows shot up under his bangs.

"Hey!"

Wes ripped the humongous golden bracelet with diamonds embedded in it from his pocket and waved it right in his face. "You were going to sell our mom's bracelet for drugs, weren't you?"

Soul rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not like she'll notice it. She's got plenty of expensive snobby junk just lying around."

"This is our _great great great grandmother's_ bracelet! You know mom would cut your throat off if you sold it."

"Screw her! It's not like she would give a second thought murdering her child."

Wes sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Soul." he whispered his name as if he was talking to a child for the nth time about the importance of self-love and all that crap. "Mother loves you. She's just not pleased with your asshole behaviour. She's worried about you." He lowered his hand and rested them by his sides. "We all are."

Soul snorted and snatched the bracelet from Wes's hand, pocketing it. This time, in his pocket inside of his jacket. "Yeah, right. All you care about is your damn violin."

"Soul―"

"No! You all fuck off!" He backpedalled away from his brother's outstretched hand. "All you all care about is your damn music and your damn instruments! You don't even have time to think about a black sheep like me!"

"Soul!" he hollered at the top of his lungs. "You know that's not true! We all love you very much and we're sincerely worried about you!"

"You're all a bunch of liars!" He flipped his brother off as he backed away. "You can all fuck off, you snobby richy snobs!"

"Soul Evans! You come back here!"

He kept on flipping his brother off as he walked away to join his friends in the dark night.

…

His now cold cup of coffee rested in the palms of his hands as he sat on the rooftop. The moon shone in the dark blue sky, he could barely catch the sinister smirk he knew too well from the other realm. Feet propped up on the ledge as he gazed at the plethora of cars parked in the parking lot through the spaces between the letters of the sign proudly stretching over the roof. This way, the customers couldn't see him and wouldn't complain of a punk creepily gazing at them.

"It's a great idea." Wes said. "Great use of the hook in the ceiling and the drain. But how will you stop the flow of the water?"

He had a vision in his head. In the corner of his living space, he would he set up a large bottle of water so it hung from the ceiling. With a few holes in the lid and an extra piece of plastic, he would create a mechanism to turn on and off the flow when he was done with his shower. By creating it, he wouldn't have to wash his hair with soap in the sink at a public bathroom. And Maka wouldn't have to leave to quickly to go to the bathroom (because peeing in a bucket wasn't cool) and take a shower. Maybe then— if he dared to wish for— she would stay the night. Then after they'd finished hooking up, he wouldn't have to shamefully lie naked and used on his futon, watching her leave to the bus station. Then he could simply hold her throughout the night and forget exactly how shitty his life is.

The toilet matter still remained but at least he would be one step closer.

"With a special lid." Soul said.

"I see… like one on those sport bottles."

"Yeah."

"That's a genius idea." Wes grinned wide from the phone resting against his thigh. "Mom should've sent you away to college to become an engineer."

Soul snorted and smirked. "I didn't even pass the math courses I had in high school." He didn't even pass high school. He was already screwed when he dropped out from junior year to become a "delinquent" as Wes liked to put it. A time he would rather forget all together.

"You could always become an entrepreneur. You're very clever."

He tilted his head and cocked his eyebrow.

"Okay. You couldn't handle the social part of it."

"Damn straight." He put the cup of cold coffee down on the cement floor of the roof. "I guess my future is to work in the food industry until the day a gang breaks into my storage room and kills me."

"Hey, come on, your future is brighter than _that_ , bro."

"Oh really? What's in my future then, oh mighty oracle?"

Wes silenced. Somehow, when inside of the other world, he managed to guide him by seeing a couple of seconds into the future. How that had happened he had no clue, but without his ability, he would've been dead by now.

He remembered all too well. The bone-shaking screams of agony. Saliva dripping on the floor. Jaw breaking and the sudden stop of scream and the satisfied gulp that echoed in the silence. He couldn't forget the person's face when he disappeared inside of the creature. It all appeared like a scene taken from a horror movie.

But it hadn't.

"A bright one." Wes eventually spoke softly. "A confident you. Happiness. Your dream job. And a partner who loves you dearly."

Soul snorted and snapped his head away from the screen to the parking lot. "Yeah, right, what a prediction."

"Wait hold on! That's a great prediction!" Wes burst out. "Someday you'll get comfortable in your skin and let the past be the past. And you know when you do that, you'll be able to achieve everything you want."

"You're so cheesy." His eyelids fluttered shut. "Besides, I've let go of the past."

"Riiiiight, brother."

He snapped his eyes open. "I have!"

"Yeah, let's keep on pretending."

"I have!"

"Sure thing, brother."

"Fuck off."

Wes snickered, grinning wide and exposing his straight pearl white teeth. Teeth he'd been jealously longing to have instead of his monstrous sharp ones. "Soul, Soul, Soul, be careful what you wish for."

"I'm not _that_ lucky. You'll always be glued to my side like a plague." He stood up from his seat on the ledge and brushed off his pants from dirty. An old habit of his. His mom had banged the habit into his head because _Evanses were clean_.

"I haven't always―" Wes's silenced when steps on the spiral stairway rung loudly. "Is it Joe?"

"He should've left an hour ago." Soul whispered into the microphone on his cord. "No one should be up here."

"I haven't seen those people before." The space between Wes's eyebrows narrowed as if he was trying to recall something buried within his mind.

Three seconds later a wild spikey blue hair came into view followed by black with odd horizontal white lines. Two tall young men in his age appeared in front of him. The one with wild blue hair grinned wide and Soul noted the tightly balled hands by his sides and the tense jawline. Dude, that guy was mad.

"You're Soul Eater." the blue haired guy didn't ask. He stated.

The guy with black hair crossed his arms over his fancy pressed suits and his golden eyes shone in the dark. "Hello Soul." he spoke with superiority he well recognized from the snobs his parents used at dinner parties back in the days. "I'm Kid and he's Black*Star."

"They don't seem friendly." Wes said. "Be careful."

"You're Maka's little hay-rolling _friend_." Black*Star spoke through gritted teeth. His knuckles white as bone, threatening to break skin.

So these guys… were Maka's friends? The only friends he knew about were Liz and Tsubaki. The awkward moment when Maka and he were getting it on and half-undressed with the boner of a lifetime, the two girls stumbled inside, giggling immediately ceased to exist when their eyes laid on them. One awkward chat later, he was out of there with his hands shoved into his pockets and his back even more slouched than usual.

He suddenly felt the urge to support himself and hurl. Disgusting shivers ran through his body. Could this Black*Star character… be her ex? A jealous ex wanting to get back with his past girlfriend only to stumble over the fact she is shagging guy?

Yeah he was in a dangerous zone.

"Um…" He looked at Wes who violently waved his arms _to get the hell away from there!_ "Oh look at the time!" He shoved his phone down in his pocket, casually waltzing toward the stairway right behind them. Damn. He'd to come up with a good way at getting away from them.

As if Wes had heard his prays, he answered. "I'll come up with something."

"Oh really? But we're just getting to know each other." Black*Star sidestepped and blocked his route.

"Black*Star." Kid groaned through his teeth. "I don't think Maka would be too happy―"

"Duck!"

Soul fluttered his eyes and before he'd even the chance to act, his head whipped toward the side, pain blossoming. He cupped his hurting jaw and cursed loudly.

"I warned you, bro." Wes said.

"What the fuck?!" Soul cursed and his nails dug into the blue blossoming skin.

"That's for _fucking_ my sister!"

Soul's eyes fluttered with confusion. "Your sister?" He couldn't recall her ever mentioning any brother. Only her father. She had always talked about her own life trying to rope something out of him, but she never said anything about a brother!

"Hell yeah I am!" Wes groaned just in time when punch number two was delivered right to his head. He stumbled and fell on his butt.

"Black*Star!" Kid roared.

"Nobody touches my sister and gets away with it!" he spat on the floor right in front of his feet as Kid ripped at his arm. "If I hear you're around my baby sister again, I'll cut off your balls!"

Kid pulled at Black*Star's arm toward the stairway as he hollered death threats. "I'm sorry about his behaviour. He can be quite overdramatic."

"I'm not! I'm going to kick you in the balls!"

"I think Maka would prefer his testicles intact." Kid stepped on the stairway and apologetically smiled toward him. "It was… a pleasure meeting you." Black*Star kept on cursing and swinging his arms, thirsting to grind his bones into dust. His hollers eventually died down.

"Well…" Wes spoke up. "I did not expect that."

Soul rubbed his pulsing cheek. His right eye quickly swelled in size for every hard pulse. Geez, he'd better get back home before he was left with one good eye.

"And I expected you to cover me." Soul complained as he got up from the cold floor.

"Hey, I warned you. I can't help that you're slower in this world."

"You're an asshole."

…

"What the hell happened to you?!" Maka shrieked the moment after he killed the engine. She leapt from the open garage door and cupped his cheek. He hissed and she quickly apologized. "Who did this to you?" Her fingertips carefully ran over the large swollen jaw of his.

"You might want to restrain that brother of yours." Soul said as he stared at her as she examined his bruises. The cute little wrinkles on her nose and the worried eyes of hers made his stomach heat pleasantly. She was adorable when she was worried. Maybe the punch was worth it after all.

"Black*Star?!" she shrieked. "I can't believe he attacked you!" She slammed her fists against the handles on his bike.

"Me neither." Soul swung his leg over the bike and pushed his bike inside of the garage. His one good eye flickered to the thick open law book and the notebook with scribbles on it. She'd been waiting for him and by the looks of it, for quite some time.

"I'm so sorry Soul!" She was glued to his side, hand comfortingly resting on his shoulder. "I was talking with Liz and he overheard us and he promised me he wouldn't do anything stupid and I was foolish for believing him." As soon as he kicked down the kickstand, she cupped his cheeks carefully not to hurt him any further. "I'm so sorry for this! I should've warned you or―"

He placed his finger against her rosy lips. "It's okay." he whispered. "I'm not mad at you or your brother."

"I think you should be." Wes's voice rang from the earbuds in his ears. "He assaulted and threatened you. You should file a lawsuit. Who knows what that guy might do?"

Soul suppressed the urge to roll his eyes in the last millisecond. Two punches weren't going to kill him. He was sure whatever Maka would do, she could take care of it and prevent something more from happening. Suing her brother wouldn't be the best way at charming her into making their already unstable relationship more solid.

She grabbed his large hand in hers and held it tightly. "But I am. He shouldn't have done that and he overstepped his boundaries. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"You don't need―"

"Sue your brother." Wes pitched in.

"― to do anything."

She sighed and pressed a quick kiss on his knuckles. "How about I cook while you rest up and this weekend, I'll take you out for dinner and a movie?"

The corner of his lips twitched. A date. A first real date. The bruises were more than enough.

"Yeah. It's a deal."

A smile spread on her face, lighting up the area. "Great!" she beamed like the morning sun pushing away the darkness of night and awakened the butterflies dwelling in his stomach. "You can close the door and rest. I'll come with something for your bruises."

He could only smile as she let go of his hand and grabbed the plastic bag filled with cheap groceries he'd planned to use to cook something simple for them.

"Hey." Wes stole his attention as he pulled down the garage door, pushing the rode and twisting it, successfully locking the door. "Just because you accept her apology doesn't mean I forget what he did to you."

"Oh give it a rest." he barely whispered, only for Wes's ears to hear.

"Don't forget that I'm _your_ brother. I'll redecorate his face if I could."

He could only roll his eyes. Brothers. All the same.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uggggh, it has gone waaaaaay too long since I updated this fic considering I have the finished story in my docs and it just needed some editing! Now when it's exam time at school, why not take a break and edit this baby and get this one finished as soon as possibly (even though there are around two chapters more to come). I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Death child

_Chapter 3_

 

"Left!" Wes screamed into Soul's ear. Soul pumped his arms to run faster, quickly leapt toward the left. The green masked supernatural cop attacked but missed, still close on his tail. The other five cops were still out of sight, preparing a trap to catch him.

"It's not working!" Soul stressfully screamed into the microphone. He jumped over to a house across the street and the green masked cop followed once again. They had started learning about his patterns. This wasn't good.

"I told you didn't have to steal a freaking suit!" Wes hissed. "Duck!" Soul slid under a large pipe. The masked person jumped over it.

"Will you just drop it? Haven't you noticed we're being chased by the supernatural police force?"

"Drop it? You keep putting yourself in danger for _material things!_ " he hissed. "And why did you have to steal a new suit when you had one in the boxes!"

Soul rolled his head back into his skull. It wasn't like he could wear his dusty old suit for his date with _Maka Albarn_. She was a law student. The daughter of the headmaster's secretary. She was going to be phenomenal in whatever she wore, heck, she could wear a trash bag and still look beautiful! He couldn't look mediocre. For once, he'd to bring out his inner Evans and woo her. And convincing her he was boyfriend material wouldn't be easy. After all, he was a scum. The gum under a shoe―

"Jump!" Swiftly he jumped up in the air as a chain the blue masked cop swiped over the floor. Wes cursed loudly and a moment later the thick boot of the green masked cop planted in his back. He went soaring through the air, crashing through the ceiling and roughly landed on the floor. Dust floated in the air and moonlight leaked through the hole in the ceiling.

"Fuck!" Pain shot up from his back as he sat up on the white and black checkered floor.

"Are you okay?" Wes asked with concern in his voice. "You gotta get moving."

He'd certainly been better, and if it weren't for the odd natural laws in this realm, he would've been dead. A moment later two thuds echoed in the kitchen and the moonlight revealed two silhouettes.

"Don't. Make a noise." Wes whispered in his ear.

He didn't dare to even move a muscle. The head of the one silhouette on the right looked toward the other one. The silhouettes lips moved but the words were drowned out by a blood lusting roar in the distance. He stiffened and so did the supernatural cops.

"Let's get out of here. We can catch him the next time." He didn't know what terrified him the most. The loud roars in the distance or the spine-freezing familiarity to the high-pitched voice of the male. He had heard that voice somewhere. He knew he'd heard it somewhere outside the realm. His eyes stayed glued to the voice of the male as they jumped up through the hole in the ceiling, disappearing.

"Let's get the hell away from here before those monsters get their hands on you." Soul couldn't quite let go. He had heard that voice from somewhere. He stood up and kept his hand on his lower back where pain throbbed excruciatingly. Damn, that cop sure had a wicked roundhouse kick. He just needed to walk off the pain. He jumped up through the hole in the roof. The ground shook from the heavy footsteps of the creature rushed toward his direction. He jumped down the last steps of the fire escape and switched back to the normal world. The sound of cars and the hurried footsteps of workers hastening toward home to enjoy the weekend appeared around him as if someone turned up the volume.

"That was close." Soul sighed with relief as his thumb massaged the hurting spot. "That was far too close."

"You happy now?" Soul leaned against the iron railing of the fire-escape and he fished up his broken phone. Wes glared at him with his eyebrows narrowed and his arms crossed as he many times did while he scolded him.

"Don't start. You know I only did what I had to do. Besides, that dude—"

"You don't have to do _anything_. No one is forcing you."

"Wes, that dude, I know I've met him before."

Wes's long lashes fluttered and his arms loosened over his tattered and bloody suit. Heavy silence fell between them as Wes processed his words carefully. "… What?"

"I recognized his voice. I don't know from where, but I've this feeling…" The high-pitched voice of the man echoed in his mind and the familiarity of it created goose bumps on his arms. "… I _know_ I've heard that voice before. Outside of that realm. I just know it."

"You sure?"

Soul nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Hundred-ten percent sure?" Wes persisted.

"Yes." Soul said without hesitation.

"Dude, this is bad news. If you've met that person before… it means they can get to you outside of the realm." Wes's eyes stayed wide at the realization, taking in the new piece of information. If he'd met the guy in real life… so were the others. They were also looking for him outside in the real world.

Oh shit.

"Wes―"

"You gotta go back to L.A."

"What?" Soul spat out surprised. "I don't want to go back!"

"Dude, if some supernatural beings are chasing you in this world too, you gotta go before they find you. You'll be safe there."

"Safe?" He straightened his back and started to head out of the alley. "I'm as safe here as I am there. At least I've still a roof over my head here and―" Maka. He had Maka. He had someone he could rest his head on her strong thighs and close his eyes, feeling a little less lonely with. She made him forget for a moment about his shitty life. For once, lying on his futon bare and breathing heavily as he held on to Maka, he felt good. He felt as if there was someone out there beside his brother who wanted him. If he went back to L.A… there wasn't anything there for him but the resurfacing painful memories he struggled with to forget. "… I can't go back."

Frustratingly Wes ran his hands through his hair and muttered inaudibly. He buried his face in his hands as Soul went down the streets.

Now when he had his suit, he needed some flowers or chocolate for Maka, or maybe both. With all the romance books she read and the preppy guys who asked her out, if he gave her flowers _and_ chocolates, she had to get the hint he was interested in a relationship with her. Maybe… maybe he could show her he could be good. Just as good as the good guys he knew asked Maka out. Maybe not as good but he would try.

He didn't know what was worse. Wes fiddling in frustration and sighing and moaning in annoyance at the situation, or the fact if he didn't hurry up, Maka would most likely catch him in the shower than in his suit. If he stopped at the supermarket near his work, then went to his bike, he could m―

Soul came to a halt when shiny black caught his attention. He came face-to-face with a shopping window for a firearm store. Wooden shelves displayed various handguns, assault rifles and shotguns. None of the guns grabbed his attention but the four various sizes and designs of stunguns.

Today was a close call with the people chasing him. If it weren't for the monsters lurking in the other realm, he would've been caught. They had stepped up their game and even with Wes on his side to help him, they had started learning to work together efficiently. He needed to protect himself if they ever got that close to him again.

"You can't be serious?" Wes's voice rung in his ears. "A gun? Haven't you had enough of them?"

Guns? Oh yeah. He placed his hand over his chest where the large and hideous scar laid hidden beneath his black hoodie. He didn't want to hurt anybody. Guns had already hurt people who he loved and he didn't want to do that to somebody else.

"The stungun." Soul nodded toward a particular one meant for close assault. One shock to the neck and they would be unconscious. "I couldn't harm someone that badly with one."

"A stungun is better than a gun. The question is: with what money are you going to buy it with?" The silence spoke volumes to Wes and he hissed loudly. "Soul! No! We've already had a close encounter today! This should've taught you to stop stealing in some other dimension!"

"What else am I going to do? You know I can't shell out the money for it."

"Sell that deathtrap of yours! Get rid of the second storage room. Tell Maka you can't eat Chinese every other day. There are plenty of options, little brother." He had a point. There existed ways for him to save up money for all the things he had stolen, but the material things he needed to give to Maka always forced him to steal. The cost of impressing Maka was worth the risk.

But this thing wasn't for Maka. It was entirely for him. It would be the first time he put himself on the line for _himself_. With the stungun, he could effectively protect himself and keep up his criminal behaviour in the other dimension.

"Weren't you in a hurry?"

"Oh! Right." Soul jogged toward the supermarket. As he caught sight of the red sign he pulled up his hoodie over his head to cover his striking hair. The doors automatically opened and he started his usual routine, checking out where the security cameras where at and finding a blind spot to jump to the other world at. A smirk grew on his face when he found a large heart-shaped box full with expensive handmade chocolates from Belgium. Only the best for the best. Lucky him he didn't need to p―

"Soul?" He froze at the sound of his name spoken from the far too familiar voice. "Soul Evans? Is that really you?" Heels echoed far too loudly as he slowly turned his head, finding Anya strolling over to him. "It really is you. I knew there could only be one person with that strange white hair." she breathed heavy and her hair was messy from the wind as if she'd run after him as soon as she spotted him.

"Well, do you look at that? Never expected you to run into her." Wes snickered.

"What the hell are you doing in Death City?" Soul questioned.

"I'm here attending some businesses on behalf of my father's company."

Her father owned a motion picture company where commercials, movies and other motion picture products were made. His parents and Anya's father used to be close friends and they worked together a lot. Beside creating their own music and recording different bands' music, they also created desired music for Anya's father's company.

Silence stretched between them as Anya pushed a lock of golden blonde hair behind her ear. "I've been looking for you." Anya broke the silence. "After… the down spiral." Down spiral was putting it gently.

"I didn't want to be found." he confessed.

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "It wasn't that bad to make you disappear."

"What do you want?" Soul spat. "You found me. Now say what you gotta say. I've got some place to be at."

Her eyes flickered to the large box of chocolate in his hands. "A date?" The silence gave her all the information she needed and a smirk grew on her face. "What's her name?"

His lips tensed and his grip on the chocolate box tightened "It's not a date."

She cocked her eyebrow and gazed at his white knuckles. "Last time I checked, if it's not a date, you don't need to buy chocolates."

"It's not a date." he repeated. "But I want it to be."

"So tell me about this girl. Is she cute?"

Soul opened his mouth and he halted. "I don't have time for this. I gotta get ready."

Anya grabbed his arm when he was about to walk away. "You can get ready at my place. Then we have more time to catch up."

Catch up? What was there to catch up on? He had no ties with L.A and the people he left behind. He had moved on from that life and he had no interest in it.

"You can't seriously think about rejecting her offer?" Wes spoke up. "Think about it, we could get some info about father's company. You could take back Evans Corporation." Evans Corporation? It didn't exist anymore. Not since the accident more than a year ago.

The day his parents died and the only son's name on the will had disappeared along with them, there was no way he could win a court case against his father's partner who had powered up with multiple prestigious lawyers. He had no connections to the company. That's why his father didn't include his name on the will. He knew his father would be furious knowing their luxurious mansion and the wealth he had on his bank account went into his pocket.

He didn't give a rat's ass about the company, but Wes did. When everything was… normal. Wes enjoyed going to work at Evans Corporation, creating music and learning right beside their father how to run the company so he could one day take over.

"Sure." he spoke as he exhaled. "Why not. But I can't stay for too long."

Her face lit up and she nodded "Absolutely!" She grabbed the chocolate from his hands. "I'll buy these for you." Elegantly she went passed him, if he hadn't known her since they wore diapers, he wouldn't have detected the slight skip in her steps.

He allowed her to buy the chocolate and a bouquet of white roses for him and they exited the store. A long polished limo stood sloppily parked on the curb and the chauffer gazed in the rear view mirror, fixing his hat on his head. An amused grin spread on his face. Calm and collected Anya Hepburn just had to stop the limo, eh?

…

Feelings weren't easy. He'd locked them inside a safe where they couldn't be harmed. Only Anya and Wes knew the code to the safe. He knew he could always trust them with his feelings. So it felt right baring his heart when Anya asked questions about Maka. He'd always gotten his brother's point of view, and now, he got a woman's opinion.

"So now you know it all." He finished. Towel resting on his wet hair and he plopped down on the hotel bed's soft sheets. It'd been such a long time since he lay on a fluffy mattress and newly washed blanket. He'd forgotten the wonderful scent of fresh washed textile. "Now I hope I can convince her I'm boyfriend material and not just a sex toy."

"If you ask me," Anya rolled on her side where she'd patiently been listening to him rambling on and on about Maka from within the bathroom. "You've her already hooked― wait! Hear me out. I'm a girl and I know these things." She hurriedly said as he rolled his eyes.

"Geez, you sound exactly like Wes." He stiffened and she cocked her eyebrow questioningly at him, Wes snickering in the background. "You know, he would've said something similar if he was here."

"I'm sure he would have." she bit back the sorrow in her voice before she chippered up, not letting the conversation turn sad. "Anyway, it sounds like she's into you."

"Yeah, she sits on my face―"

"Not like that, dummy!" She slapped his forehead. "She's into you, as in she really genuinely _likes_ you."

He groaned loudly and dragged his hands down his face with annoyance. Why did everybody think so? Did they miss the fact he visited her cave of love on daily basis and as soon as they finished, she ran back to the dorms? Not to forget she didn't introduce him to her friends. He was her little dirty secret. To her, he was a tool of pleasure she enjoyed using. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Geez, where do you girls get that from?" he murmured under his breath.

"Come on, do you really think she would eat dinner with you daily and talk to you if she only saw you as a lust benefit? I don't think so. She would, ah, what's it called? Hit it and quit it?"

He hated it. The tiny little silver of hope that perhaps she liked him grew at her words. He didn't want to get his hopes up to only get crushed by the inevitable truth: he was unlovable.

"Seriously? Are you going to ignore me? Really immature. Have I ever worn the silk gloves?" His lips tightened. "Exactly. You know I'm telling you the truth. So it's time to suck it up and make your relationship solid. No woman enjoys being used by the man she likes."

He pulled the wet towel over his face to cover the twitching of his lips. "I hate you."

"I dislike you too."

"But you did jump out of a moving vehicle so you wouldn't lose sight of me." He ripped off the towel from his face and smirked wide at her heated face. She huffed and crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest.

"I didn't do it for you. It's my _father_ who wanted to get in contact with you."

"Sure."

"It's true."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."

"No, I mean it Soul. He's been looking for you. We've all been."

He blinked in confusion at her serious tone and sat up on the bed. "What?"

"Ever since that snake took over Evans Corporation we've been looking for you." she confessed. "We want to help you out."

"See? I told you going with her would be worth it." Wes spoke with triumph in his voice as if he'd made a life changing decision. Which he might've done.

"Help me?" he echoed.

"Yes. As soon as Arachne took over Evans Corporation and changed it to Arachnophobia, my father ended the partnership immediately." she paused. "He wants to work with an Evans."

His eyes widened and his blood ran cold, mouth opening and closing as he tried to catch the right words. "Anya―"

"When Wes was alive, he always talked about you. He told us you'd a sharp ear for tunes and editing music came so naturally for you. I overheard him once arguing with your father to invite you over to learn the ropes of the company's editing department."

"It's true." Wes pitched in. "It was during your delinquent period. Father wouldn't let you anywhere near the company because of that reason."

"And _your_ company was stolen from you. We want to―"

"No." Soul catapulted up from the bed, his slightly damp hair whipping his cheeks from the force of his head shaking. "I'm not a musician. _Wes_ was the musician. He got a major in music and business. I didn't even finish high school. I know nothing about music and―"

"You don't have to have a piece of paper to prove your talent. It's in your blood. You know music."

"No Anya. I'm not going to start a music company."

"Fine then." She propped her clenched fists on her hips. "Waste away your talent. Give Maka one good reason to leave you when you work part-time for minimum wage while she makes large money as a lawyer."

He flinched at her name and bit his lower lip self-consciously.

She sighed heavily. "Soul." she spoke his name calmly. She fished up her phone from her brown bag laying on the night stand beside the red heart-shaped box of chocolate she'd bought for him. He thumb swiped over the screen. "I think you better hurry up getting dressed if you want to get back in time."

"Is it already six?" His eyes bulged out form his eyes with surprise and he grabbed his white dress shirt.

"What. No? It's soon seven."

"Seven?!" he exclaimed and he buttoned his shirt. "I told you it was six!"

"No you said seven! You clearly said it was seven!"

He cursed repeatedly as he threw his suit jacket over his shoulder and grabbed his bag. "Forget what time it was, Maka's going to chop my head off!" He could already feel the force of her law book hitting his skull.

…

He slammed the limo door shut as he hurried up to the old garage door. The sound of heels clicking followed him. The garage door was loudly pulled up, revealing Maka in a cute purple dress with her hair curled. Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms.

"I'm so sorry I'm late." He apologized when he came to a stop in front of her. "I lost track of time―"

"Who's she?"

He looked over his shoulder where Anya slowly approached with her shoulders elegantly pulled back. "I'm Anya Hepburn." She offered her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Maka glanced at her hand and grasped it, shaking it.

"Maka Albarn."

"So, now you've met, now you can leave." Anya let go of her hand when Soul started to push her away by her shoulder. "I'll see you some other time."

"Hey!" Anya protested as he guided her away. "I want to chat some more and get to know your lady."

"Not this time."

"Fine." She brushed his hand off her shoulder. "Just remember what I told you. Don't keep her waiting." She stood silent beside the limo with the still running engine. "I'm leaving for L.A tomorrow."

"Really?" He couldn't help but feel a little sad.

"Yes. My job here is finished. Since your phone is broken…" She fished up a card from her purse and handed it to him. Her business card scribbled with her phone number. "Here. Call me. Even though you're a jerk I still don't want you to disappear out of my life."

He grabbed the card and pocketed it. "Right. I'll call you."

A smile spread on her face and she opened the door to the limo. "I'll see you later." She slid inside of the limo and Soul closed it. The limo drove away and he turned back to face Maka once again. He inhaled a breath of courage and went up to her again.

"Sorry about that. Anya can be very―"

"Why do you keep on doing that?" she said incredulously.

He raised his eyebrow questioningly. "Doing what?"

"Shutting me out of your life." She raised her voice. "You never talk about your family and you've never introduced me to any of your friends. All I know about you is you live in a storage room and flip hamburgers!" Frustratingly she growled loudly and went back inside, flipping down on his futon. "The one time I see _someone_ close to you, you send her away. I just don't get you!"

He silently watched her as she buried her hands in her curly hair. "I didn't know you wanted to talk to her. I thought you wanted her gone so we could go and eat."

"Our reservation has already expired and the movie has started. What's the point?"

"Oh." His heart sank in his chest and sorrow coursed through his veins. His one chance at convincing her. No. It wasn't his only chance. He could make it up to her. Somehow he could fix this. "We could do something else." He offered.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Please," he urged and took a seat beside her. "Let me make it up to you."

"There's something you could do." A smile spread on her face. He stiffened when she reached for the photo of him and his brother discarded on the futon beside her. "Who's this?"

His lips tightened as he stared down at Wes's genuine smile toward the camera as he ruffled Soul's hair. "It's a sensitive topic."

She groaned and she smacked her back on the futon. "Why won't you talk to me! Aren't I supposed to be the one person you can talk to?"

"I don't want to talk about it." he muttered under his breath.

"You know me!" she exclaimed and launched up, eyebrows narrowed angrily. "I tell you _everything_ about me and you keep me at a distance. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you!" He jumped up on his feet anger heating his cheeks.

"Then why can't you trust me with your life?" she spat. "You say you can trust me but you always push me away and you never say _anything_."

"I've given you everything I have!" He roared loudly. She'd snatched his heart and he was fine with it. He'd stolen for her. He'd _been_ with her. He'd taken what he'd been given. All he'd wanted was to give her what she'd deserved. He'd tried― damn had he tried, but in the end, both his brother and Anya were wrong.

He wasn't enough.

And he would never be.

"Everything?" she snorted. "All I've ever wanted was―"

"If I'm such a fucking disappointment why don't you just leave?" She flinched visibly at the sheer volume of his voice.

She clenched her fists and puffed out her purple cladded chest. "Soul―"

"Just leave." He pointed toward the open garage door.

"You don't mean that." Wes voiced erupted from the phone in his pocket.

"Leave!"

She stared at him, all traces of anger gone from her pretty face. Slowly she went up to him and kissed his cheek tenderly. "I'll see you later." She grabbed her discarded purse and pulled down the garage door after her.

The silence laid and he sighed. He slumped down on his futon and he ran his hand through his messy hair.

"Really?" Soul fished up his phone, seeing Wes with his arms crossed over his dirty suit. "Was that necessary?"

"She doesn't like me." He dejectedly admitted. His heart aching painfully in his chest as if it was being torn apart once again.

"No shit Sherlock. Of course she's not very fond of you when you scream at her face to get lost."

"So now you're on _her_ side." He snapped furiously at his brother. "Didn't you see how she confessed I wasn't good enough? Did you even hear that?"

"All I heard was her telling the person she _likes_ that she needed him to open up and communicate with her."

"Why are you on _her_ side?"

"I'm not taking any sides. I'm telling you for once stop running away."

He shook his head. "I'm not running away."

"Oh really?" He cocked his eyebrow. "You ran away from L.A because you couldn't stand the ghosts of the past and you left the few friends you had. You isolated yourself from people so you wouldn't get hurt. Even though it's obvious Maka truly likes you, you deny the fact and push her away."

"I'm not." he snarled. "I _want_ her to like me."

"No you don't. Because if she likes you, she could end up hurting you."

"I trust her."

"No you don't. If you did, you wouldn't hesitate about telling her about your past."

Every statement was like a stab to his heart. His blood boiled in his veins and his hands tightened and his knuckles whitened with red hot anger. "You know nothing about me!"

"I know you more than you know yourself, Soul!" His hands lashed toward the screen and his furiously wrinkled face filled the screen. "I know without me you would've been dead a long time ago!"

His jaw tightened as he stared at his brother breathing heavily to the point his nostrils flared. "Fine." Soul growled under his breath and the phone slipped from his hands, landing safely on his futon. "I don't need you." He turned his back on his brother.

"Wait, Soul!" The anger disappeared from his voice. "Don't go. Take me with you!" Soul grabbed his discarded bag, swinging it over his shoulders and opened the garage door. "I'm sorry―" He cut off the sound of his brother voice by slamming the garage door shut.

…

There were no blindspots inside of the firearm store. The security cameras covered the whole store to assure there were no spots to hide in. Right behind the bearded cashier stood his price on a shelf: the stun gun.

The rain created ripples on the puddles on the street. A grin spread on his face as he pulled his hoodie over his face. With determined steps he headed toward the exit of the alley beside the firearm store. His cells turned inside out and the noise of the city slowly disappeared. The rain stopped hitting his shoulders and the ordinary moon grew a grin and blood shot eyes glaring down at him. In the distant he could hear the bloodthirsty roars of the monsters.

It was time to get this party started.

He grinned wide as he slammed the door open. He headed toward the register where the packages of stun guns were neatly stacked on the shelves. He snatched the first box from the shelf, ripped the box open and retrieved the stun gun. With narrowed eyebrows, he flipped the bottom open and snatched a handful of batteries from under the register. A moment later he'd ripped open one and slid the large battery inside the stun gun. He held in the bottom and blue electricity jumped from the two short metal rods. Quickly he shoved the extra batteries in his backpack where his wrinkled suit was. He swung the backpack over his shoulder as he tackled into the door.

Dark silhouettes jumped from the building in front of him. All five people had arrived. He shoved the stun gun in the waistband of his jeans and started running down the street. A loud bang resonated in the air, Soul leapt inside the nearest alley. Guns?! They'd brought guns with them?

Panic coursed through his body when he took off, landing on the roof as bullets soared passed him. Even though his body didn't grow weary in the other realm, his breath came short and heavy as he pumped his arms, desperately desiring to run faster. Three thuds and boots clacked against the sheet metal.

He shouldn't have left Wes. He couldn't do this alone. He was wrong. He couldn't do _anything!_

He needed his brother.

Bullets rained down and he dived quickly behind a chimney. He breathed heavily as he pressed his back against the chimney, dark red pieces of the chimney went flying from the impact of the bullets.

He couldn't die now. Oh fuck, he couldn't die after he yelled at Maka and― and― threw his brother away like he was trash!

He'd to find a way.

There _had_ to be a w―

A heavy blow to his right and he was sent soaring through the air, breaking chimneys, ceiling tiles in his way. Sheet of metal crinkled loudly as he crashed to a stop three roofs away. Pain exploded at his lower back. Crap. Now his bruise would grow larger. The green masked cop slowly lowered his long leg. From his peripheral vision, a hand raised and metal gleamed between the blue masked cop's fingers. He cursed and rolled, but his hoodie stuck in the crinkled metal held him in place.

Without thinking, he covered his face and the ninja stars embedded in his right arm. Pain forced itself up his throat, wanting to scream, but he swallowed down his cry. His breath came quick and heavy as he gazed at his arm. Four ninja stars were sprouting out of his arm, dripped with purple liquid. His stomach fell to the floor and his body turned to ice.

Poisoned.

He wheezed when he moved his arm, tugging at his hoodie and the back torn. He dodged a second round of the poisoned ninja stars. Rounds of bullets were fired and pain erupted in his already damaged arm. Blood poured out from his wound as he jumped to the next roof.

His breath grew heavy. Genuinely heavy. The more he ran, his vision turned more blurry and the world roofs started swaying. In his haste, he removed the ninja stars. His multi-tasking ability ceased to exist and he stumbled, rolling down the ceiling tiles and crashing into the asphalt.

He gritted his teeth as he held his hand on his bicep, blood slipping between his fingers and soaking his hoodie. With the little energy he possessed, he propped himself up and leaned against the dark red brick wall. His heart pounded against his ribcage, threatening breaking through. The footsteps were no more. The bullet weren't fired and the swishing sound of ninja stars weren't thrown. Only the roars of the monsters wandering around the city sounded.

His breath was ragged. The bricks swayed and swirled around and the cement holding them together blurred. Damn it. The poison had spread fast. He'd to… he'd to get back. To his brother. He… he could fix it. His eyelids grew heavy as if someone had tied weights to his eyelashes.

A couple of deep breathes. He groaned loudly, moaning in pain as he got on his feet― he was slammed into the wall. His breath was knocked out of his lungs and his vision filled with green. Tiny hands grabbed his biceps, nail digging into his bullet wound. He cried in pain as he slammed him against the brick wall. Before he could act, she locked his legs against the wall. The green spiral decorated the mask and the thin fabric where his eyes were revealed the phantom of eyes.

Roughly he grabbed a hold of his hoodie and pushed it off his head, white hair sprang free. He startled stared at the green masked cop. Hands frozen in position as he stared at him, the roars of the monster louder and clearer than ever before.

Weakly he reached for the stun gun. If he could just… reach it. He stretched his fingers, brushing against the plastic case of it.

Gently the hand on his hoodie released the fabric. The small hand― feminine hand relaxed and feathered over his forehead, running down the side of his face and traced his jaw until it came to a rest against his cheek.

"Sou―"

The surprisingly high voice turned to a scream of pain when he pressed the stun gun to her side and turned it on. She collapsed on the floor gasping and moaning in pain. He seized and shifted. The roars from the monsters faded away and the _woman's_ cries disappeared. A sigh of relief exhaled his lips at the ground stop shaking from the loud stomps of the monsters.

Warm blood trickled down his arm, dripping from his hand. He tugged his sleeve down as he stumbled forward. He'd to… he'd to… return. But… he's so tired. The light at the end of the alley shone. He'd to… the world spun around… return to his brother. He gritted his teeth as he stumbled out of the alley. He couldn't pass out now. He'd to get back to him no matter what. He… he knew what to do. Wes always… knew what to do. With hurried steps, he bumped into walls, trash cans and people.

He was lucky he was close to his storage room. With his good arm, he heaved the heavy door open. "Wes!" he cried out. Exhaustion weighted down his entire body and his knees gave in, collapsing on the ground.

"Soul!" Wes's voice erupted from the phone still lying on his futon. "Soul! You better not be fucking hurt!"

He breathed heavily and fast, his fingers in his hurt arm numb to the rough ground of his storage room. He crawled toward the futon. "Wes." he whispered. "I…" He inhaled loudly, stretching his arm out and grasping the broken phone in his hand. Wes's eyes widened and the earthy background behind him moved.

"Shit! Soul, you just wait there, I'll come. I'll get y―"

His voice turned into noise as his eyes grew heavy. Head slumped against the ground and silently he murmuring an apology to his brother before the light was consumed by darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a fucking idiot. Every time I usually copy and paste the title and the chapter in my document and I forgot to switch the number! Here's the real chapter 4.

Death child

_Chapter 4_

 

The night's darkness cloaked him as he strolled down the street. His heavy boots resonated in the silent night. The golden bracelet weighted heavily in his pocket as he nervously fiddled with the dense bracelet.

Damn, his conscious started kicking in. He knew his mom would be majorly upset and heartbroken when she found out he gave her bracelet away to buy drugs for him and his friends. He could picture her radiant and happy face turning crushed and tears welling up in her eyes before she falls down on the floor, screaming out her pain. She would hate him. She would curse him out and the love she'd given him would be retrieved. His father would― well, do nothing and say nothing to him as usual, but the one parent that did love him would hate him.

He bit his lower lip as he turned, walking inside the usual alley.

He didn't want to disappoint her.

His father was an ass. Only cared about his "only" child, Wes. Gave him the fancy job and education and praised his music. The few moments he had taken the time to listen to his music, he cursed him and his music out. He couldn't give a fuck about his father.

But damn, his mother meant the world to him.

He came to a shrieking halt at their usual waiting spot. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit! He was a fucking asshole. He couldn't give away her most precious bracelet. He would rather cut off his hand than hurt his mother. After all she'd done for him.

He gotta get out of here.

He flipped on his heel a―

"Soul." He came face to face with the grinning smirk of Giriko. "My man." Soul stiffened as he grabbed his hand and patted his back. "You brought something good?"

"Um," he gulped. Mosquito, their friend, neared them both with his arms crossed. "About that." His hand stuffed in his pocket tightened on the golden bracelet. "I got caught. I don't have anything with me."

"What?" Mosquito spat. "You don't have _anything?_ "

"Nothing."

"Let me get this straight," Giriko growled under his breath, taking a step closer so his head hovered taller than his. "You got caught, got the stuff taken away, and you crawl your ass here with _nothing?_ "

His neck shrunk to his shoulders and he took a step backward. Why was he so suddenly hostile toward him? He'd never seen him like this before.

"Y―" His head whipped toward the side and cheek throbbed painfully. His back hit the wall and he cupped his hurt cheek. "Did you just backhand me?" His voice faltered when Mosquito whipped out a pocket knife. "Wait, wow, bros." His friends neared him and he held up his hands in defence. "Let's just chill for a moment."

"Listen, rich boy." Giriko growled barely audible. "You stabbed a knife in our backs."

"Actually―" He cried out when Giriko punched him in his left eye.

"Shut up!" Giriko spat in his face as he slid down the wall. "You betrayed our trust. You fucked us over when we needed you the most." He held out his hand and Mosquito placed the pocket knife in his hand, smirking wide. "We can't trust you _bro_."

Somehow, he didn't feel like they weren't bros.

He whipped away the sticky nasty saliva from his face. "Bro, dude, you wouldn't do this. We're friends."

"Friends my ass!" He brought down the knife and slashed it across his chest. His breath was knocked from his lungs and red hot pain spread throughout his whole chest. His nails dug into his chest and hot liquid instantly wet his hand. The sound of their laughter drowned out as he fell to the ground.

The pain overwhelmed his senses. The shifting view of feet was blurred and time became a fluid concept. He couldn't tell how many seconds, minutes or hours he laid there. He realized he held his mother's bracelet when it slipped from his fingers. Loud bangs rang in his ears and what felt like a moment later, warm flesh grabbed his hand.

"―ul!"

Who was it?"

"Soul!"

Soaked hands grabbed his face, steering it. Wes. He held his side as his hand slide to press his suit jacket against his wounded chest. Damn, so much blood.

"Stay with me!" Wes cried out as he added pressure on his wound and cursed under his breath. "The ambulance is on the way. Just stay awake. Don't you fucking dare die on me, bro."

But he was so damn tired. So fucking tired. Vision going blurry and the corners of his eyes darkened. He couldn't stay awake. He was too tired. He couldn't go on.

If he had just listened to his brother.

…

He cracked his eyes open and instantly he was met by the vague light from the night sky keeping the small storage room's pitch black darkness at bay. He inhaled loudly a―

"Good morning, sleepy head."

He jumped at the voice, pain shot through his right and he hissed loudly. His hand was met by soft white medical bandage. He'd been… treated?

"I'm sorry." Warm tiny hands placed on his shoulder and he was met by Maka's incredible green eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled tiredly and dark bags decorated her eyes.

"Maka?" He couldn't believe she was here after he practically chewed her out. "What're you doing here?"

Her thumb ran over his bare skin, slightly adding pressure to his unharmed arm. "We'll talk about that later." Slowly he laid down on the futon, making sure not to hurt his arm. She paused before she parted her flushed lips. "What do you remember?"

He cocked his eyebrow. "What?"

"What happened to you?" She gestured toward his bandaged arm.

He stiffened. "I…" His tongue nervously swirled around his closed mouth as if he could create word from thin air. There were no words that could explain him getting his ass handed to him in a different realm by supernatural cops. "I was… robbed," he finally said.

"Robbed?" she laughed drily. "I don't blame you for lying." He flinched and she neared him, entangling their fingers together. "I know what happened. The truth."

"You do?" His eyes fluttered with confusion.

"I do." She reached toward her backpack lying discarded by her side. With her one hand, she flipped the lid open and pulled up―

"Fuck!" Soul blatantly shouted a string of curses, snatching his hand from hers. His shoulder coursed with pain as he tried to crawl away from her. "You're _that_ guy!"

She lowered the familiarly green fabric mask he'd seen countless times inside of the other realm. All this time― all this time― it was _Maka_ who chased him. Realization hit him harder than lightning. That voice he heard, it had to be that dude he met, Maka's friend. The blue-haired one who punched him straight in the face.

She dropped the mask and gently pressed him back down on the futon as he clutched his bad arm. "And' you're _that_ idiot."

"Idiot?" He narrowed his eyebrows. "Did you notice how I did _not_ offend you?"

"Soul," Wes said. Soul's eyes snapped to his side. The broken phone rested by his side as if earlier he had held it in his hand. He grabbed a hold of the phone and saw him for once not in the earthy room. Trees surrounded him as he wandered toward and unknown destination. So he could leave the wooden and dark place he always found himself in. He had to question him about that later when he was alone. "Don't fight with her now. Listen to her."

He had no clue why his brother was in such a sudden serious mood, but he'd been present when he was not. He knew things he didn't. If he thought he needed to listen, he needed to listen.

"I only speak the truth. You're a big fat idiot for entering Limbo," she said.

"Limbo? As in the place in between life and death?"

"Yes. That Limbo," she sighed. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing by entering Limbo, but you're not only putting your life in danger, but other's as well."

"Game? If you haven't noticed there's a lot of good shit in that realm I don't need to pay for."

"So you're willingly putting everybody's lives at danger because of _material stuff?_ " she emphasized, her tone underlying supressed rage. Geez, he had heard that one before.

"Yeah, so what? I steal shit. It's not like I could afford all the stuff you want me to do and have. You live this amazing life and I can't match up to that," he roared. "So I steal. So what."

"It's not 'so what'. I've never _asked_ you to do those things for me. All I've ever wanted was you to open up and be my partner," She shouted back, but her voice quickly died down. Her tooth buried in her lower lip and her fists clenched. "I never wanted you to put yourself in danger for me. I would never ask you to do such a thing for me. I don't care that you live in a storage room. I don't care that you flip burgers for a living. The only thing I've ever wanted was your trust and love."

The anger melted from his body. Hands fisting the blanket covering his lap, trying to hide his shaking hands from her watchful eyes. "All I've ever done… it was to convey my feelings to you."

"And you certainly have a unique way of communicating them." A soft smile spread on her face and she laid her hand on his shoulders, giving it a squeeze. "But I love you none the less."

He stiffened while his senses went haywire. Heart pounding faster than a hummingbird's wings and blood heating up to boiling temperature. The terrifying ice-cold sensation grew within his heart, yet at the same time it was pleasant. Her soft green eyes stared at her.

"I know I've never actually said it." She leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder. "I know I love you, have for quite some time, I just never knew how to break it to you without you…"

Her voice drowned to the sound of his throbbing pulse in his ears. He couldn't breathe. _He couldn't breathe_.

"The water's gone," he choked out.

She snapped away from his shoulder. Eyes wandered to the shower system he had created with her in mind. The large gallon he had suspended to the ceiling was empty. "Yeah, I used some to clean your wounds and I took a shower." Her eyes returned to him, but they were no longer soft, but stern. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

The choking sensation returned. It was as if someone sneaked behind him and wrapped saranwrap over his face. He parted his lips, but no words wanted to leave. She patiently waited for him as noises of letters left his vocal cords. Eventually she lowered her head, her bangs covering her face.

"I know you've problems, I just… I just hoped you would open up to me more often. I'm your girlfriend after all. You can tr―"

"Girlfriend?!" His eyes widened.

She raised her head and her eyelashes fluttered as she tilted her head with confusion. "Soul, we've been dating for five months, six months by next Saturday."

They were _dating for six months?!_ Since when did they wind up dating?! He though― they were just _friends with benefits!_ Maka didn't _want_ a relationship. She always came to sleep with him and left! She never introduced him to her friends and the one time he even met her friends she was quick to ask him to leave! He was always her dirty secret―

"Oh my god!" Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. "I've had a one-sided relationship for _six months!_ " She burst out loudly, he flinched from the sheer volume of her cry.

The garage door suddenly thudded loudly and it opened all the way. Black*Star stood tall and― he cringed at the view if the two girls, Tsubaki and Liz, if he remembered correctly, the two girls who giggled and froze when they stormed into Maka's dorm room when they were fooling around. The only time when he had met any of her friends.

He shrunk under his blanket as the heavy boots of Black*Star's pounded on the floor as he entered. He threw a dark blue backpack and Maka caught it. "Got all the things you asked for."

"Thanks," she pouted as she shoved her hand inside of the bag. "Great timing as always."

"A God always knows when to arrive." His icy blue eyes landed on Soul and he couldn't help but pull his blanket up to his ears.

"We never properly introduced ourselves," Tsubaki said, smiling gently toward him. "I'm Tsubaki."

"I'm Liz," Liz said, wearing a wide smirk. "Sorry for ruining the moment."

Please kill him. Could just lightning strike through the ceiling and fry him on the spot. Never before had he been so embarrassed. There was not a better way meeting your… girlfriend or crush or whoever's roommates half naked and a clear bulge in your pants.

"Liz!" Maka hissed.

She shrugged her shoulders and grinned wide. "What? I just apologized."

"It's nice to meet you again." Tsubaki broke off the bicker between the two girls. "We're going to head to the movies next weekend. It would be nice if you came with us. We've all been looking forward meeting Maka's significant other."

Wait. Significant other? So Maka told them _he_ was her boyfriend?

"Thanks Liz, but I think we'll pass." Maka answered. Her warm silky palm pressed to his forehead before her fingers ran through his hair. "We've other plans."

"So this's Prince Charming's home." Black*Star shoved his hands in his pockets, sharp muscular biceps at display in his tank top. "Lovely." It was like a stab to his heart.

"Black*Star!" Maka growled. "Not now."

"What? I'm just saying that you've to be really into the dude to want to lose your V-card on a futon in a storage room."

The knife in his chest twisted. He knew all along he wasn't good enough for her. He wasn't good enough for her. It was stupid to bed her. It was a mistake approaching her―

"Black*Star!" Maka shrieked loudly.

Soul threw his blanket off his body, hurriedly he sat up and pain throbbed through his arm, but he didn't care.

"Wait Soul," Maka spoke with desperation in her voice. "You're still hurt. You shouldn't be moving―"

"I'm fine― I just need some air." He hurried up on his feet to the sound of Tsubaki smacking Black*Star's head. H quickly grabbed his phone.

"Soul, no, don't do this." Wes begged from within the phone.

"Soul―"

"Don't worry about me." He waved Maka's concerns away as he quickly bolted out of his storage room. His hand clutched his pulsing bicep and the stitches painfully held together his skin. He kept on walking. He didn't care about his bare feet slapping against the cool asphalt or the ice-cold air nibbling his bare chest, he was just grateful he wasn't wandering the streets in his boxers.

"Soul," Wes repeated his name. "Just slow down."

"No." The slapping of is feet quickened. "I'm not going back there."

"Soul." He flinched at his voice he used when he scolded him. "Will you stop running away?"

"I'm not running away. I just need some air."

"Some air?" he repeated. "That's what you always say. _I just need a breather_ or _I'll deal with it later._ Why don't you get a spine and deal with things instead of running away or shutting people out?"

"I'm not running away!" Soul snarled and glared at his brother's face. "I'm going to deal with it."

"That's exactly what you said the night before you packed up our things and left to Death City."

"That was different."

"How is it different? You can't take the blame nor the ghost of the past, you can't handle that the woman you love actually _loves you back!_ "

"You're wrong." Soul growled, rounding a corner and slapped his back on the brick wall, immediately regretting it when pain coursed through his arm.

"You're my bro, my only brother." His voice softened as he gazed back at him through the phone. "You've a heart made of gold. You're loyal and kind to the people you cherish. When you get attached to someone, you'll crawl through minefields and cross deserts for them. But you're afraid of letting people in because you could end up hurt."

He flinched and silently shook his head. "You're wrong." He hated the silent tingle in his chest, feeling the truth in his words.

"She's not going to hurt you. Why don't you go back and talk things out with h―" The familiar roar of the supernatural creatures froze his blood and turned his flesh to stone. He wasn't in the other realm. "Shit." Wes whispered and clearly jumped behind a tree, pressing his back against the rough bark.

"What's going on?"

"Shh, brother, they might hear you."

He wanted to say something, anything, but the familiar stomping of the creature prevented his tongue from moving. He couldn't do anything but silently watch his brother press himself against the broad tree as the stomping grew louder. Wes eyes stayed transfixed on him, face natural as if he wasn't in a life threatening situation.

The stomps suddenly came to a shrieking halt and the silence hung heavily. Soul opened his mouth as if to speak and quickly Wes slapped his index finger against his lips. Slowly he closed his mouth.

Claws crashed against the side of the bark and the hideous face of the creature peaked around. Eyes hidden beneath layers of paler wrinkled skin and long tongue hanging out of its mouth, thin and sharp teeth at display; teeth that could rip your flesh apart effortlessly and devour you in less than two bites. The creature's tongue licked the bark, slowly moving closer and closer to Wes. He didn't dare to breathe as he stood frozen on the spot. Barely an inch separated them and carefully, Wes slid away from the curious tongue.

The sound of a stick breaking under his shoe echoed in the silent forest.

"Run!" Soul hollered into the phone and at the same time Wes bolted. The image bounced all over the place as Wes pumped his arms to the sound of the creature purring with delight. The screen was tackled to the ground and Wes cursed loudly. For a split second, the screen on his phone revealed a white mansion with cute round windows before it returned to Wes. The creature's teeth sunk into his calve and violently puled at it. "Wes! Run!" Soul desperately called out to his brother as he was pulled backwards.

"Be good, will you?" Wes grunted when he let go off the phone.

"Wes!" His voice cracked as he saw his brother being dragged away. Tears trickled down his cheeks and his breathing quickened. "Wes!" He was left screaming his name.

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! He was supposed to be trapped in his phone! He wasn't supposed to leave him!

"Soul!" Maka called as she rounded the corner. "What's g―"

"They took him!" He spoke through the tears. "The creatures― Wes's gone!"

Maka kneeled beside his shaking form and cupped his cheeks. She steered his face to hers, green eyes staring worriedly into his. "You'll need to be a little more specific."

"It was― he was in the forest― the creature from that realm appeared― _it took him!_ "

She bit her lower lip and looked away from him, thumbs ran over his cheekbones to desperately comfort him. "Soul, for all the death children who bond with a person passing away, this happens."

"What?" His breath ceased to exist.

"Those creatures are what we call Kishins. They eat the ghosts stuck in Limbo. You can't escape them. Once you're caught, you're dead." Her hands tightened on his face. "I hate to say it, Soul, but he's gone."

Gone? He couldn't be gone! Wes had always been the one person that was always _there_. When he first started school, Wes had sought him up and invited him to have lunch with him and his friend. He was there to clean up his wounds when he fell of his bicycle when he was learning to ride it. He always helped him out with his homework and played videogames with him afterward as a reward. He was there when he lost his way and helped him see the errors.

Wes couldn't disappear. What was he supposed to do without his brother? He was flawed beyond belief and he couldn't tell right from wrong. Wes was his morals and his guiding light through life. Without Wes…

What was the point of even trying to be good? He was a bad person. He had done so many wrongs. So many mistakes that lead to lethal consequences. Without Wes, those consequences would grow in frequency and in magnitude.

Without Wes, there would be no good left in him. Nothing worth saving.

"You're lying." He gritted his teeth. "He's not _gone!_ "

"Soul―" She begged when he pulled away from her, abruptly standing on his feet and hurriedly walking away from her. "Wait."

"No. He's not dead. He's not gone."

"Just stop and listen to me." She halted his steps with her hand on his uninjured shoulder. He looked over his shoulder and gave his attention. "He's in Limbo. He's been dead for a long time. The only thing left to save is his spirit."

"And how do I save him?"

"Spirits are in Limbo because they'd unfinished business when they died. The only way for him to move on and rest in peace is to finish what he left behind."

Wes was still stuck because of something. He knew he was in love with Evans Corporation and he loved producing music and running the business beside their father. He was devastated when the family business didn't go to him and he had been all over the idea of receiving Anya's help. Getting the Evans Corporation back to the Evans family would be an almost impossible mission.

But with Wes on his side and Anya's help, he could maybe do it?

"Thanks for the info." He turned around, intentions to leave when Maka's grip on his shoulder tightened.

"You don't understand Soul, if they took him, they know about you. They _want_ you to come after him. They'll wait for you to come for him. If you go after him, you'll get devoured alongside your brother and forever be in pain trapped inside the Kishin's stomach."

"He's my brother." He grabbed her hand and ripped it away from his shoulder. "If the roles were switched, he wouldn't hesitate a second."

"Wait Soul!" Her grip on his hand tightened. "You don't understand. You can't throw away your life for you _dead_ brother. He wouldn't want it."

"No, it's you who don't understand. He is my brother. He's the one person who's always been there for me. He's saved my life in countless ways, heck, he's even taken a bullet for me." He ripped her hand off his. "I'm not going to abandon him now when he needs me the most."

"Soul. You can't do this." Maka desperately called for him as he walked away. "You'll get yourself killed!"

He had to do this. He loved his brother. He wasn't going to let his brother die and forever be trapped in the hell inside of the Kishins. He didn't care what he had to do. He was ready to go back to the past he left behind in order to save his brother. Even if he had to give up his life and forever be trapped in the hell of agony, he would do it within a heartbeat.

Whatever it took, he would do it.

For Wes.

…

The garage door rattled shut and Soul inserted his key, successfully locking it with a click. The rays of the sun painted the sky pink and the early morning birds greeted everybody a good morning. Soul picked up his bag from the ground, swinging it over his good shoulder. The low humming of a car came closer and lights blinded him as it turned to his row of storage rooms. It came to a stop and the passenger door opened, revealing Maka with a backpack swung over her shoulder casually.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as she slowly approached him.

"You don't know much about the Kishins and the Limbo world." Two doors opened and Tsubaki and Black*Star stepped out of the car. "You'll need us to save your brother."

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, fingers tingling with delight. "Alright. Fine." He swung his leg over his shiny flaming motorcycle. A smile lit up on Maka's face. She slid on the bike, correcting his backpack before her arms snaked around his waist. "We're going to L.A. You sure you can hang on for that long?"

"Absolutely."

The corners of his lips crooked as he kicked his bike to life, it roared loudly as Tsubaki and Black*Star climbed back into their car. The bike took off and the car followed in suit.

Hold on Wes, they were coming for him.


	6. Chapter 6

Death child

_Chapter 5  
_

 

They arrived in L.A in the afternoon. They checked in on the nearest and cheapest hotel (Maka promised to take care of the bill for their room she shared with him). They had all agreed they would eat dinner and get a good night's rest and the first thing in the morning, they would head out and search for Wes.

As soon as he'd dropped his bag on his bed, Maka grabbed his hand and dragged him out of their hotel room, insisting since their date was… interrupted, they would eat out and enjoy each other's company.

He couldn't help but notice the odd feeling of holding her hand. She did enjoy holding his hand when they laid cuddled up together on the futon and talked about everything between heaven and earth. Then it felt cosy and comfortable. But now… it felt weird. At the very back of his mind existed a nagging sensation eating at his consciousness. When she looked at him with that twinkle in her eyes, his heart clenched and his breath was lost.

He was… uncomfortable.

He couldn't focus. Maka kept on trying to keep up a conversation, but Wes's absence stole his thoughts. He glanced at the phone that still showed the roughed up leaves where he'd dug his fingers into the ground.

"Soul," he looked up from his half-eaten plate of fries and a hamburger. "What are you thinking?"

He cocked his eyebrow questioningly.

"You've been so quiet. You know you can talk to me."

"Yeah." He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Just… a lot."

"I know it's a lot." She leaned over the table and entwined her hand with his free one. "But we'll do our best for him."

He shook his head, bangs whipping his cheeks as he pulled his hand away from hers. "No, it's not just that." He rested his elbows on the table and buried his hands in his hair. "It's about…" his tongue swirled in his mouth, searching for the right word. " _us._ "

"What about us?"

"It's just…" His grip on his hair tightened to the point his hair strands threatened to leave his scalp. "I think― _I know_... we should end this."

_Snap!_

He whipped his head up to see the plastic fork in her hand broken in half, tooth biting her ketchup-stained lower lip. Tears welled up in her eyes when she parted her lips. "You want…" she shakily breathed. "You want to break up with me?"

His heart wrenched at the visible heartbroken expression on her face. Never in a million years did he expect her to express such vivid hurt of losing _him_. There was nothing special about him. There were much better guys out there who had great jobs, great educations, men who were actually doing _something_ with their life while he, he was lost and broken, fumbling around as he tried to find his way. He was no good. He was more a burden than an equal partner to her.

He couldn't be hers.

He wasn't worthy her.

Slowly he nodded. A tear broke through and quickly she wiped it away with the sleeve of her navy blue hoodie. "Why?" She shakily exhaled.

"I… I've a lot to think about. I've to save Wes. I can't focus on any relationship―"

"Bullshit!" she roared, slamming her hands on the table, attracting the other diner guests' attention. "This" she pointed between them "isn't a burden. What you and your brother have is completely different from our relationship. Those emotions don't cross." She desperately wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks. "Damn it Soul!" She sobbed and buried her eyes in her palms.

"I didn't think you would react like this." he whispered.

"React like this?!" she shrieked, jumping up from her seat. Red hot anger flared up in her eyes. "What did you expect?"

He flinched at the sheer volume of her voice and the burning red spots on his neck from the onlookers' eyes. "That you would be relieved…?"

"Relieved?" She hiccupped and stared at him unbelievable. "I hate it how you underestimate your bond to people."

"Maka―" He stood up from his seat when he left the booth.

"Go back to the hotel. I'll get back on my own." she whispered. "And I'll take care of the bill."

He felt bad, he wanted to follow her and sooth her pain, but he didn't. She might be hurting now, but at the end of the day, she would be grateful. He was so underneath her and unworthy her affection, she simply couldn't be his. It wouldn't… he had to break it now before later down the line she realized what a loser he was and suffered a bigger and more painful heartbreak.

He returned back to the hotel and waited up for Maka. The night came and the blazing moon lit up the night sky. He lay all alone in his single bed, waiting up for her returned. It wasn't until around midnight the door creaked opened. Cautiously he peeked as she, without getting changed, crashed into her separate single bed. He was grateful for once that the darkness covered up her eyes, making it impossible for him to see if they were puffy and red.

"I know you're awake." Her voice was no longer shaky but neutral and calm. "It's no secret that you love me. I know you don't want to genuinely break up with me." She continued to whisper, her back still facing him.

He couldn't help but to simply listen to her voice. He… sincerely cared for her. But he was no good. Everywhere he went people scattered away from him because of his monstrous appearance. He didn't blame them. He was scared of his own reflection. The few people who had dared to be around him was… bad. He was bad. No wonder he had attracted bad people. He was a magnet that attracted tragedy.

He didn't want to stick around when shit hit the fan for Maka.

"I don't know why you felt compelled to end what we have, because ending what we have because of Wes isn't a valid excuse. I know you've been hurt before in your past, and hearing this might not change anything, but I want you to hear this because it is the truth, I won't hurt you. I love you and hurting you is the last thing I want to do."

His lips parted hesitantly, teeth chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. "Good night."

"Good night. I love you."

She didn't receive a reply.

…

As silently as possible, Soul tied his shoelaces. Eyes snapped toward Maka's sleeping form hidden underneath the blanket. Carefully he pulled his torn hoodie over his head, not to hurt his already damaged arm too much. He flinched at the loud rustle of his bag when he grabbed the stun gun. He didn't know what was instore for him, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He slipped the stun gun in his waistband of his jeans―

A sudden loud inhale caught his attention. He saw Maka rise from her cocoon, rubbing her eye and hair a big mess. "Soul." she sighed tiredly. "It's still dark."

"I…" he gulped, fingers fiddling his sleeves. "I can't sleep so I was going to get breakfast for both of us."

She cocked her eyebrow questioningly. "Really?"

He shrunk under her watchful gaze and his body temperature peaked. "Um, yeah, I feel bad for what happened last night."

"You do?" He voice significantly softened and a dreamy expression was formed.

"Yeah. I want to somehow make it up to you." That wasn't a lie, right?

"Naw," she opened her arms wide, inviting him in for a hug. "You're so sweet."

He hesitated for a second, the nagging sensation at the back of his mind returned. There was no harm in giving her one last hug? Right? Slowly he dragged his feet toward her and allowed her to envelope him in her arms. He buried his face in her neck, smelling her familiar scent of fresh green apples and a hint of vanilla.

He was going to miss this.

"Maka…" he whispered into her ear as he reached behind his back. "I'm sorry―" he yelped in pain, tumbling down on the floor, clutching his side. Maka glared at him with the stun gun in her hand.

"Do you think I'm stupid?!" she shrieked. "I don't fall for the same trick twice!"

"You didn't have to put so much juice into it!"

"It was on your setting." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You were going to take off alone, weren't you?"

"No―"

"Don't lie!"

"If you already knew the answer then you shouldn't even ask!" he spat back, cursing under his breath as his fingers massages his side where the electricity had entered his body.

"You're such an ass!" She swung her arms, her knuckles white from gripping the stung gun too hard. "That's not what it's about."

"Then what's your deal?"

The anger melted from her face from his harsh voice and left was uncensored hurt than made his heart twist and regret blossom. "You don't trust me at all." she whispered with hurt in her voice. "And you never have."

"That's not tr―"

"Oh really? Then why did you never share your real name? Why did you never share your past with me? You never let me in on your life and even now when I've found out about your Death Child life, you break up with me and run away from me." She bit her lower lip and a silent whisper escaped through her lips. "I don't want to _lose_ you…"

He already knew he was shit. Just like his brother said before he was taken: he was afraid of her. He was terrified to the core of her because he didn't want to get hurt again. Of all people, he didn't want to disappoint her. The last thing he wanted was the warm love in her emerald eyes get sucked out and replaced with disgust and hatred toward him. He sincerely cared for her and he didn't want her to hate him or get hurt.

He just wanted her to be safe.

"I know I suck at communicating." He abandoned his less hurting side and heaved himself up into a sitting position. "I've… I'm not good at maintaining relationships." He slowly confessed. Maka watched him, completely neutral in her expression. It was as if she was patiently waiting for him to talk at his own pace. "I've been scared for people my whole life… I've been bullied and beaten and used." He placed his hand on his chest where his scar laid hidden beneath his shirt. "I ran with a bad crew who I thought actually cared for me. When I didn't give them their next package, they attacked me and left this on my chest. They wanted to scare me so I would never fail again, but my brother interfered and he protected me. He saved my life and took a bullet for me in the process."

He still remembered the day when he woke up in the hospital, all stitched up and his mother bawling her eyes out. His eyes bulged out when she embraced him tightly and her mascara-stained tears mushed against his cheeks. Wes had simply grinned from over his chair with his jacket lazily hanging on his shoulders, exposing the bandage wrapped over his chest.

Even though he had been such a dick to him months prior to the attack, he still cared and followed him. Without a shred of hesitation or fear for his own life, he had emerged from his hiding spot in order to protect him. He'd risked his own life in order to save him. _Him!_

"I'm… I don't know… I'm terrible at communicating. I should've been more honest with my feelings."

Maka reached out and placed her warm small hand on his shoulder. "It's not too late for you to be honest."

He suppressed a grimace and placed his hand above hers, giving it a squeeze. "Um…" he gulped. He couldn't believe what he was going to say. "Was I… not good enough?"

She raised her eyebrow questioningly. "What?"

"You know… you never actually _stayed_ after we had... you know. You were always quick to leave."

"Oh…" Her mouth shaped into a circle and her eyes slightly widened as she realized his train of thoughts. "I didn't leave because I wanted to hit and quit. I left because of my stupid dorm supervisor. My father's in contact with her and if he found out I was returning to the dorm late at night, he wouldn't pay for an apartment off campus."

Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrow.

"This autumn, my dad promised me if I kept getting A's and behaved, he would pay for an apartment off the campus. I knew if he found out I had a boyfriend he would throw a fit and break his promise just because he can't handle his precious angel actually having a boyfriend." A smile spread on her lips and her thumb ran over his collarbone. "I thought if I earned the apartment, you could move in. I didn't want to tell you since you didn't react that well when you met Liz and Tsubaki for the first time."

"They walked in on us when we were getting it on!"

"But you weren't just uncomfortable because of that. Even though they left you were still bothered by it. I could tell you were uncomfortable and needed time to adjust to our relationship. That's why I didn't tell you about the apartment since I knew you weren't ready for that conversation."

The corners of his lips repeatedly twitched as his heated heart fluttered. All this time when he thought she was keeping him at a distance and using him for pleasure, she was simply giving him time to get used to the relationship. Even though he had never even uttered any of his feelings toward her, she knew of them. Heck, all this time, did she know him better than himself? She saw through him as if he was glass and he kept stumbling around in the dark. She already had him figured out and he was still trying to piece together who he was.

Had he been so blind all this time?

"So… all this time, you didn't come to _just_ sleep with me?"

She laughed heartily as she cupped his cheek, her thumb running over his rough cheek. "No. I came to be with _you_. I thought you'd a high sex drive and I wasn't going to deny sex because being with you was never― and will never be wrong."

The fluttery feeling in his chest blossomed and slowly spread throughout his body. Every vein started to throb as the fluttery sensation spread as if it was an anti-poison. His whole body was consumed and he was drowning in the sweet sensation of fluffy clouds and heat blankets and Maka's green pools of eyes.

Love.

It was uncensored love that consumed him.

He genuinely loved this woman.

Her other hand came to cup his free cheek and her thumbs wiped away his suddenly wet cheeks.

"Thank you." he choked out.

She smiled softly toward him as she wiped away the unstoppable rivers escaping his eyes. "I'm always here for you." She slid down from the bed so she wouldn't break her back further. "How about this," she brushed his bangs away from his eyes, "I get dressed and you compose yourself and then we leave to save your brother?"

He nodded.

…

"So this is your old house?" Maka asked after he killed the engine. She gazed up toward an ordinary cute house with round windows.

"No, mine's a little further up. Thought it would be a good idea to go into Limbo here instead by the house." Maka climbed off his bike and soon he followed.

"Yeah, good thinking." He locked his bike and grabbed his keys. Both of them shifted and the morning sun was sucked from the sky, leaving behind the moon with blood gushing from its mouth.

In peace, they jogged up the street, hands to themselves. The gardens soon grew more extravagant and the cute houses soon grew into luxurious mansions. On the top of the hill at the end of the road, the mansion he had ran away from proudly stretched with the large trees behind it. A knife stabbed his chest at the sight of what he once had. What once was his everyday life. _His_ _home_.

But was ruthlessly taken away from him.

Maka lightly slammed his arm, successfully grabbing his attention. She smirked toward him and nodded. His spirit was lifted by the time they reached the edge of his lawn. "Wow…" Maka said with amazement. "This is your home?"

"Was." He picked out his broken phone from his pocket. "I left after they all died." The crack on the screen ran over the still unmovable view of the forest behind the mansion. They headed forward, Maka admired the proud facade and he knew already what questions simmered through her mind. Why did he leave? If he could live in a luxurious mansion like this one, why would he live in a garage? Why was he left scrapping for a living when he was clearly blue blood?

The answer to all of them was easy.

He wasn't worthy.

He hadn't inherited Evans Corporation, but he had inherited the mansion, all their belongings and a shit ton of money he could swim in and still live a comfortable life. He didn't have to live in a storage room. He didn't have to flip burgers or shoplift. All the money was all safe in his bank account.

Simply the thought of using his parents' money made an image of his father's scorn face, crossed arms and foot tapping irritatingly appear in his mind. It served as a reminder he was always going to be a disappointment. He was never worthy of bearing the name of Evans. The money wasn't his. It would be wrong for him to use his father's hard earned money. His father would probably turn in his grave if Soul took a cent from his bank account. If he had any unbroken bones left that is.

They rounded the house and in the middle of the garden was the lid to an underground wine cellar open. It had the same earthy background Soul had countless of times seen on the phone screen. So it was there he had been hiding all this time. It was there they stored the alcohol after his parents noticed he had been stealing it!

"Look over there." Maka pointed toward the edge of the forest. "What's that on the ground?"

They approached the unknown item and Soul kneeled in front of it. Soul brushed a leaf away from the phone's screen, revealing the camera view from the phone resting in his hand. He grabbed the phone and let it rest in his palm.

What on earth was Wes doing outside of his hide-out? If he knew all along he was in Limbo, why would he put himself in danger by leaving? Wes was always the rational and safer one of them. He had to know the Kishins would catch him and kill him if he left the wine cellar. Why? Why would he leave the safety of his shelter?

"I don't know," Maka whispered, her fingers touching Wes's phone. "In here… I can actually _see_ the images."

His head whipped toward Maka. "Really?"

"Yeah. I've never seen such a connection before between a spirit and a Death Child."

"This isn't ordinary?" Soul raised his voice with shock.

"No, I could hear my mom's voice in my head, and so were the majority. Except for Kid. He communicated with his father through reflections."

He didn't know what to respond. This whole Death Child aspect felt suddenly foreign. He had jumped into the strange realm for over a year, but now with all the info about Kishins and Death Children and Limbo, everything he knew about the other realm felt like a lie. All this time, he had been chased by his ex-girlfriend― friend with benefit and her friends. Now he was… what?

"Is there a way we could track the Kishin?"

"Hmm," Maka's eyes moved toward the roughly leaves away from them. "They obviously want us to come after them. So there should be a clear track for us to follow, but we'll walk blindly and into a trap."

"But it's a way?"

"We can't follow that, you stupid. The Kishins already know we're looking for him, or else they would've already been here to tear us apart." Her eyes hardened and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "Listen to me, Soul. You need to understand this; Kishins are driven by unrestricted hunger for souls, but they aren't complete idiots. They've their target set on you, and if we follow the track blindly, we _will_ end up in their stomachs along with Wes."

His hand tightened on the phone. If he couldn't follow the clear route to find Wes, how was he supposed to find him? He had already wasted so much time he could've used to track Wes. Was he even alive? He had let his problems with Maka go out on Wes. If he hadn't given a fuck about her, Wes wouldn't be gone.

Wes was right. His judgement had ceased to exist for too long. And Wes had taken the hit for it.

He couldn't Maka cloud his judgment again.

"No."

"What?"

"I said no." He ripped his hand from hers as if she had burned him. "I'm not going to waste more time. If we tiptoe around this, he could die― he could already _be_ dead because of all the time we've wasted!" He ran his hand through his roughly hair. "I'm not going to let him die because of stupid strategy."

"He can't die when he's already _dead._ " she hissed. "You can't take unnecessary risks and die." Her hand tangled together with his reluctant one. "He's already dead, he's nothing to lose. But you've _everything_ to lose."

"I don't care." He was about to rip his hand away when suddenly cool metal and a _click_ caught his attention. He snapped his eyes downward and saw the silver handcuff around his wrist. The other handcuff clicked around Maka's wrist. "Did you just… _cuff me?_ "

"I didn't expect I would do this outside of the bedroom." She pulled at the cuff. "If this is what I've to do to keep you safe, this is what I'll do."

"You're not serious—"

"Now shut your mouth and pull your head out of your ass so your ears aren't covered." Roughly she yanked and he stumbled after her. "We're going _my_ route. We're doing this _my_ way. No compromising."

The resistance he possessed she shoved back down his throat with her words. He was left trailing after her, the cuff digging into his hand as Maka lead him forward. His mind bubbled with thoughts of his brother. What was he feeling? Was he disappointed in him for letting his feelings blind him from the truth? Would he look down at him just like his father always did? Would he bawl his eyes because of the damage he had dealt like his mother did? Would his eyes turn cold ice-blue just like his father did?

Was he even alive at all?

He didn't know. Whatever the case was, it would break his heart. He had never wanted to disappoint his brother. Never. And now he might've gotten him killed.

They wandered, occasionally he slammed into her back when she suddenly came to a stop to gaze around them as if a stick broke around them. He honestly didn't care. He was cuffed. He couldn't run away from her. Even if he tried, she would beat his ass every time. Without Wes guiding him in his ear, he was nothing.

He was ripped to the ground, landing right next Maka. "You could've warned m―" His lips were covered by her palm and her index finger rested on her own. She pointed forward. He followed the direction and saw barely the head of a Kishin. Its cheeks were sunk in and wrinkles of its skin covered its eyes. Drool dripped down its invisible lips as it continued to wander toward their left, away from them.

Maka leaned forward, lips brushing his ear. "It's patrolling."

His head whipped to meet her eyes. "You mean…?"

"We're close."

His heart raced― something he wasn't experienced with inside of Limbo, even though his thoughts were in a panic haywire, the pace of his heart never wavered. His ears sharpened and in the distance, Kishins scratched the bark in pure bloodlust, passed the eager Kishins others were gathered, slurping saliva and nails clicking in excitement and― the sound was vague from the crazed anticipation of the Kishins, there was crying. The faint shaky inhales and gulps as if forcing sorrow down their throat. He had heard this sound before. The day when he woke up in the hospital after he had been attacked by his so called "friend".

It was Wes.

He was alive.

His body moved on its own. Maka ripped him down by the chain, he crashed back against the earthy ground. "No sudden moves." she snarled into his ear.

The damage was already done. The Kishin's head snapped toward their direction, hollering at the top of its lungs, saliva flying everywhere.

"They've noticed us!" Maka yelled, jumping up on her feet, pulling Soul up by his jacket. His brother's phone slipped from his and fell on the ground. He stumbled after her, running full speed with the Kishin close on their tail. What felt like hundred Kishins hungrily hollering to the moon, before a stampede started.

He couldn't care about the Kishins, all he cared about was the fact he was running _away_ from his brother.

"What are you doing?" Soul hissed.

"Saving our lives." They dodged trees. Kishins rained down from the trees as if they were raindrops. The handcuff dug into his wrist and he wished Maka had chosen a fussy one, his eyes were locked at the direction where Wes waited for him. He couldn't run away. He was so close. No amount of Kishins could keep him from Wes.

A Kishin landed in front of them, Maka dodged under his claw. He slid between its legs, he yanked hard on the chain and the Kishin fell on its ugly face.

He got to get away from Maka.

He gritted his teeth with determination. They jumped, ducked, leaped toward the sides. Everything to dodge their attacks. Claws dug into the bark just by his head, Maka yanking him away from the second assault toward his gut. He spun around and planted his heel in another Kishin's temple.

There was his chance!

He grabbed a hold of its wrist, pulled at Maka toward him. Her eyes were left wide when he stretched the chain. Before the claw could slice through the chain, Maka protected it with her hand. Blood spilled from her hand and the chain remained untouched.

"M―" Maka spun Soul and slapped her hand on his mouth, smearing her hot blood on his lips. They backpedalled away from a hollering Kishin, impaling its nails into the face of the other one. She jerked at the chain, he spun back and stumbled on his feet when they hightailed away. Trees cracked and threatened to break from the force of the Kishins' jumps.

He recognized the direction they were heading. "M―" Maka elbowed his side, a sign to shut the hell up. A tree fell in front of them, Maka pulled him away when the tree obliterated everything in its path.

If he could just communicate to Maka without actually telling her about the sudden drop at the end of the forest connecting the pacific ocean to their home. If they just managed to reach the drop, they could possibly jump into the ocean and the Kishins would lose track of them. Now when they were within the supernatural world of Limbo, their bodies could handle the impact―

His thoughts came to a shrieking halt when a loud _crack_ caught his attention. A Kishin soared away from the tree falling toward them. He was about to push them both away when a Kishin jumped at it and the trunk came crashing toward them. Time ceased to exist when the tree slammed on the ground, taking him with him. Maka yelped when the handcuff pulled her down to the ground, almost drowning out the sound of the bones in his right arm crushing under the weight of the tree. Pain blinded his vision. Kishins cued with excitement as they jumped around and clicking their claws. The mouse had been cornered.

Soul bit his lower lip as he gazed toward the tree trunk and Maka whose nails clawed at the bark. The other handcuff around her wrist gone. He couldn't even feel his left shoulder. Her arms barely hugged the large body of the trunk and her nails left their mark on the bark. The tree barely lifted from his body when bark flew and the trunk was slammed down on his body. He threw his head back and Maka whispered her apologies.

Soul moved branches away from his face so he could look through the thin fabric of Maka's mask. "Listen," He gritted through the pain as Maka shook her head. "Go and find Wes."

He had been running away from the truth far too long. Ever since the accident. His parents' deaths. His brother's passing. He was already dead. He died along them. Ever since, he had been a zombie. Stumbling mindlessly forward without a purpose. Just waiting for something to show him mercy and take what should've ended alongside his brother.

He had been dead for the past year.

Dying wouldn't make a difference.

But―

"Right!"

His head automatically turned right and the nail of a Kishin sliced through the branches just where his head had been.

"Wes!" Soul exclaimed after he heard his beloved brother's static voice coming from his phone. A moment later the Kishin went flying and another pair of arms grabbed the tree. The tree was lifted from his chest and it loudly landed beside him. He was pulled to his feet by Tsubaki and pushed him forward, encouraging him to run. His broken arm swung madly as all the three ran forward while Kishins hollered angrily, rushing after them.

"Jump into the water and swim half a mile toward the right. They will lose track of you if you keep your heads under water." Wes communicated through the phone. The cliff was reached and all of the jumped, diving into the cold water. Soul afforded one look and through the blurry surface of the water, he could see Kishins madly looking at the water, trying to identify their location while a clumsy Kishin fell down into the water.

Tsubaki and Maka held his hoodie as they swam. The water didn't suffocate him, it was as if he was breathing air. They reached the shore where he remembered much time he spent with Wes on the beach. Where he had taught him to swim and built sandcastles together. Right by the shore stood Black*Star rubbing his throbbing cheek and his left eye blue and swelled.

So he got his hands on Black*Star after all.

He ran into the water, no care in the word if he got his suit wet. "I got him." Tsubaki handed him and Wes wrapped his arm around his shoulders. His hands didn't run right through him as the typical ghost would. He was real. He was really here.

He wasn't a crybaby. Crying didn't come natural for him. His lower lip quivered and his eyes grew blurry. A weight was lifted from his shoulders and he felt lighter than he had ever felt in years. His brother was here. They could finally be together. Even death couldn't separate them.

"You're reckless." Wes stated. "You're an idiot and incredibly brave." He ruffles his hair under his hoodie and grinned wide toward him. "I've the coolest little brother."

"And you're a dick." He inhaled shakily. "If you weren't trapped in my phone, and you knew you were also in Limbo, why didn't you tell me?"

His playful aura disappeared. "Can you give us a minute?"

"We won't be far." Maka answered. She brushed his back before she, Tsubaki and Black*Star headed up the shore and took a seat at the borderline of sand and grass.

When they were finally alone, Wes spoke up. "Do you really think I would tell you? Then you would've been pulled in and stayed inside of the realm. Do you know how dangerous that would be to you?"

"It would've been better than staying alone." He hated the unfamiliar feeling of his lower lip quivering. "I was all alone."

"Not all the time. You've Maka now. And I'm sure her friends will become your friends in no time. They're all very good people, well, maybe except for that blue idiot. That guy you should keep an eye on. Get it? An _eye_ on?"

He rolled his eyes at the poor joke he tried to pull in a situation like this one. "Seriously?"

"What? It was a good pun."

"You're terrible."

"No. You don't mean that, brother."

"Why the heck were you out of the wine cellar to begin with? You've always been hiding there. You got taken because of it!"

"Why do you think I left it? You returned bloody and dying in front of your phone? What the heck do you think I would've done?"

So… he was out… because of him? He _had_ returned, collapsing in front of his phone for his brother watching him dying slowly. Even though he had been hours away from him, he had still exited his safe space. For him. Even though he would've come too late, he tried.

Even in death, his brother put his life before his own.

His cheeks became cold and he touched it, leaving the tips of his fingers moist from his tears leaving his eyes.

"Soul…" A sob left Soul's throat and he buried his face in his brother's blood-stained suit. "It's okay… Everything is okay. You know why?"

"Why?" He sniffled as he soaked his brother's shirt.

"Because you've Maka." He felt his head nod toward a direction and he lifted his head, seeing Maka worriedly gaze toward him, contemplating if she should approach or not while Tsubaki held her hand on her shoulder. "If she didn't care about you, she would've left you to die in your home. She wouldn't have followed you here to help me out."

He gasped and quickly wiped away his tears, ripping his gaze away from Maka.

"And you don't need me anymore."

"What?" Soul exclaimed and faced his brother, who was suddenly glowing a soft yellow colour.

"I was always worried how you would survive. You barely got up to go to work. You just existed without a purpose and I hated how you were so unhappy, but now―" A large smile spread on his face as a tear of his own trickled down his cheek. "You've found a safe haven in Maka. She sincerely cares about you and wants the best for you. Now, I can finally rest in peace knowing you're in safe hands."

"What? No!" He couldn't help but feel how cold his shoulders turned and how they seemed to… disappear. "You can't go!"

"My time has come and I've fulfilled my purpose in Limbo. You don't have to worry about me. Even if you won't see me or hear me, I'll always be there. You know, like a bird to hack that blue dork's head or a street dog to ruin your fun with Maka."

"No―" his body slowly dissolved in a rain of golden and his smiley was the last one disappearing with the wind. He fell to his knees, bawling his eyes out.

He had just lost his brother.

Again.


	7. Chapter 7

Death child

_Chapter 6_

 

"Now _that's_ what I call quality music!" Wes exclaimed, grinning wide toward his brother. "Excellent cellist and harpist. Marvellous combination."

"If you like your ears to bleed." Soul commented with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"Come on little bro, that was heavens opening up and singing hallelujah. Perfect combination of the dark tunes of a cello and the soft and gentle notes from a harp."

"'s not my style." He kicked a pebble on the ground.

"Come on boys!" Their mother turned backwards toward them a few steps ahead. "We got to hurry if we're going to grab a pizza before Wes's performance." Her mother smiled her softest and brightest smile, but Soul noticed her anxious fingers massaging her wrist where her bracelet usually was strapped around.

Even though she had forgiven him, he knew, she was hurting because of him. And she was never going to let it go.

"Yes mother." Wes called and he received a happy thumb up from her. "Now listen, brother," He retrieved up his brand new phone, the latest and fanciest one on the market. "There are some very good jazz bands out here. Actually, Father doesn't want me to tell you this quite yet, but I think you should know." His thumb swiped over his screen until an amateur picture of two very familiar guys with a saxophone and a cello.

"They're the guys playing at Sax and Jazz." Soul pointed out.

"Correct. For a couple of months ago, you talked about them at the dinner table. Father might not agree in your taste of music, but he wanted to hear this band you talked so highly about. While you were out and being a jerk to your family―" his stitches uncomforting tugged at his flesh "―he was actually out at your weird underground jazz clubs."

Soul's jaw hit the ground. His stoic, neutral quiet father actually took his time from his busy schedule to go to his hangouts to search for a band he enjoyed listening to. He actually remembered his weaker state when he rambled on about the band at the dinner table. He didn't know what he was feeling. He felt… warm and tingly and― and― happy.

"He― he did that?"

Wes nodded. "He agreed with you. They were alright and they held potential. So he came up with an idea. He wants you to guide them."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're the one with the ear for good jazz and with our resources at Evans Corporation, he knows you'll mould them into great musicians."

He was left speechless. His gaze moved to their father walking beside their mother, hand in hand as he held her from rushing to the parking lot. He… he actually believed in him. All those nights at the dinner table he simply looked down on his own plate and minded his own business, he took in every word he said. He… believed he could be a good influence, a good mentor to teach them how to take the world by storm.

He couldn't hold back his smile as he stared at his father.

"You gotta put all those drama lessons to use and act surprised, brother."

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, all his skills acting as a tree in the school plays.

"Come on boys!" Their mother called, waving for them to hurry up.

"Coming!" Soul called. Both the brothers hurried to catch up to their parents. They crossed the street to the parking lot where only a few cars decorated it.

"That reminds me," Wes swung his arm around Soul's shoulders, "go to the band's home page. You'll find something exciting there." Soul fished up his own phone, slightly older version than his brother and a large crack ran over the screen. It had been a present from his mother one Christmas ago. Wes had insisted on him getting a new phone just because their family had money more than needed and just… because.

His thumbs hit his slightly cracked screen, typing in the band's name to the hum of car engines driving on the way.

"No, not that one." Wes cocked his fingers. Soul rolled his eyes and handed Wes his phone. "And father should buy you a new phone. This old one is unreliabl―" The ear-bleeding shriek of metal drained his voice. He caught the horror reflecting in Wes's eyes and before he could identify the object behind him; he was pulled forward. Wes used his momentum and pushed him past his parents. He stumbled forward and fell face flat on the ground to the bone-shaking sound hitting the ground.

He flipped around and every drop of blood turned to ice. Every single cell in his entire body shifted and turned to stone. Blood. Blood poured out from underneath the truck's trailer. His father's suit-covered arm stack out from underneath the trailer and his mother's blonde hair was soaking up by the crimson hot crimson blood. His stomach twisted and he gaged at the sight of Wes's upper body sticking out, his waist and down hidden under the trailer. He emptied his stomach on the asphalt.

Wes inhaled shakily before he coughed up. Blood stained the ground. "Soul." His name barely left his lips.

"Wes." His voice cracked and he crawled toward his brother. "Wes!" He grabbed his brother's hands, his now smashed phone still in his hands. "Come on, bro." He shook his hands madly. His sky blue eyes slowly moved to his. The sparks of life in his eyes were absent as he stared into his eyes. Blood dripped from his lips. His neck slowly went flaccid and his head rested on the hard asphalt.

Tears escaped his eyes. His father, his beloved mother and annoying and caring brother's corpses laid at display for him to see. Time froze and his heart burst, ripped wide open more than the moment he was gutted like a fish. Hurt more than the trauma he endured two weeks ago. His safe haven. The one place he could relax and lean on. The one person he could share his thoughts and feelings with without being judged laid dead and cold in front of him.

He howled his pain to the moon.

…

Empty. His mind completely drained from thoughts and emotions. He was completely… empty. His brother was once again gone and this time, his broken phone didn't buzz to life in the hospital. Not before the doctors wrapped up his broken arm or after. His brother's voice didn't erupt from the phone on the way back to the hotel. Yet, he couldn't take his eyes off it. Just waiting for his screen to once again light up with his brother's face.

But he was gone.

For good this time.

The soft mattress didn't comfort him. The pillow he held close to his chest didn't comfort him. And certainly the two broken black screen didn't sooth him at all. Never before had he begged for a miracle to happen.

"Soul." He flinched away from her hand barely brushing his shoulder. He was alone. All alone in this world. Without Wes, he had absolutely no clue of what to do. Wes was sure, but he wasn't. "Please," her voice pleaded as if she had fallen on her knees "talk to me. Keeping it all to y―"

"I'm going to take a shower." He got up from the bed and threw the pillow away. He grabbed the phones on his way. The door to the bathroom closed and he stripped off his clothes, stepping into the shower with both phones. The blank phones stared at him when the scolding water assaulted his skin. He didn't care. He welcomed the warm. It helped numb the hurt in his heart. The water ran down his broken arm and down his cast.

A knock on the bathroom door caught his attention. "I'm going downstairs and getting some dinner. Call me if you need anything."

He didn't reply. His fingers ran through his wet hair.

Who was he kidding? The spirit of his brother who was stuck in Limbo, moved on. He was… safe. It was what he wanted for him. To be rest in peace somewhere safe instead of eternally burning in the pit of a Kishin's stomach. But… he was all alone. His brother could no longer guide him through Limbo to steal the goodies. He couldn't guide him through life at all. He was… alone. Painfully alone.

He bit his lower lip, fisted his hands. He needed Wes. He needed him badly. Even though Wes didn't no longer need him, he did. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to deal with this new pain. His parents' deaths had hurt him immensely, but Wes's death, it was beyond that. Wes's presence in his life had gotten him through the trauma and now he was alone to deal with the broken pieces his brother left behind. The shards of his life were scattered everywhere. The hurt and his past and his job and Maka and himself― he had no clue where to start mending his life together.

Tears leaked through his eyes and he sobbed. Damn it. He hated crying. He couldn't do this. The pain was unbearable and numbed his body. He missed his brother. He missed his mother and his father. He missed his old life with his family even though he hated going to his mother's dinner parties and hated playing the piano for the guests. He just didn't want to be alone.

He wished he could go back in time and prevent it all. Prevent the truck driver from falling asleep behind the wheel. Left the show earlier so they would've left before the truck ran right through the railing. Heck, convinced his family to stay in and chill or something, _anything_ to prevent his family's deaths!

His lower lip quivered repeatedly and his limbs shook as he sobbed as quietly as he could. He was pathetic for crying. He was pathetic for letting his brother die on him. _He_ was the one who was supposed to be crushed under the trailer. _He_ was the useless son out of them. He was never worthy the continuation of his life. Wes chose to push _him_ out of the way. He could've saved himself and left him die. But he… he save _him_.

And he hated Wes for it.

This life wasn't his to live.

He had _nothing_ good going on in his life. He had done more damage than right in his life. He lost his mother's bracelet, he got his brother shot, he disappointed his family. He was more a burden than anything else. His life should belong to his brother. He was so successful and well-mannered and good and _normal_. It was he should be alive. Not him. His life was more precious and more valuable than his. Wes would've run the family corporation and kept on taking the world by storm with his clever business techniques and his amazing violin play.

And look who was alive. A scrawny dumb boy with hideous features who never expected to amount to any good.

His life belonged to Wes and he had cruelly given it all up to him when he would've rather been crushed under the trailer.

"Soul?" The door creaked open and he quickly stood up, wiping away his tears even though they weren't visible through the shower.

"Go away." He hated how his voice cracked. Her blurry form on the frosted glass grew larger and the edges sharper the closer she got.

"You're crying." She pressed her hand on the glass. "I can't leave you when you're hurting."

"I want to be alone," he insisted. She had already seen him break down when Wes disappeared. She didn't need to see him like this. He wasn't her job. He broke up with her. She was supposed to be back in Death City to sooth her dad who must go on an insane search for his daughter's location or continue her studies so she wouldn't lose her A's. He wasn't worthy her efforts.

"I'm coming in." She took off her hoodie and threw it on the floor. She opened the door to his sputter of protests.

His breath hitched when he caught sight of the twin wet tracks going down her cheeks. He swallowed hard and his stomach knotted with self-loath. Great. Now he had upset Maka too.

"Y-you'll get your clothes wet."

"Do you think I give a fuck about my clothes?" she sniffled and hugged her arms. "Do you think I care about anything else than you?" He silently watched her take a step closer to him. "I love you. I _care_ about you. I hate seeing you hurt like this and I don't want you to go through this alone."

"J-just stop."

"No, Soul, when Black*Star commented about our first time, it upset you. I never got the chance to tell you that I don't care that we did it in some unclean stuffy storage room. All that mattered was I was with _you._ " She stepped under the stream of water. It trickled down her hair, her shoulders and soaked her black tank top. "You love me. I know you don't want to live without me, and I don't want to live without you."

She stood so close to him and yet she didn't touch him. They were crammed together under the stream of water and yet she didn't touch him. He bit his lower lip. She was giving him his space because she didn't want to smother him. "What about your dad? The apartment?"

"Fuck all that. I'm an adult and I can legally date and have sex. If he's going to throw a fit and break his promise, then fine, because you're more important than an apartment. You will always be the most important person to me."

The tiny feeling in his heart named _love_ fluttered, unfolded and grew in his body. He cared about her. But… he was such a disappointment. A burden. The irritating itch on your back you could never scratch or get rid of. He wasn't good. He was never good at anything. At everything he did, he screwed up. He didn't want to watch it when something bad happened to her.

"Maka… you don't understand. I can't― I'm not good." His fists clenched. "I got my brother hurt because of me. I got my family killed because of me. My brother got kidnapped and almost died at the hands of Kishins because of me. I don't want to watch when something happens to you."

She sneered. "That's not true and you know it. All those events were accidents and you couldn't foresee them. You couldn't control them." Her pearl white tooth bit down on her lower lip. "You can't decide what's best for me. What's best for me― and what I want― is you. Have you ever heard of the expression; what you fear, you create?"

His lips tensed. "Yes."

"Don't you see? It's all in your head." She tapped her head roughly. "If you fear you'll lose me, you will lose me. You want me now at the same time as you're pushing me away. In the end, you'll push me away if you keep this up and then what? You'll be sitting around and telling yourself the universe did it to you, and not you."

"I get it!" He slapped his hand on his face when new hot tears ran down his cheeks. He hated how Maka knew him too well. How she could predict his moves. "I'm a fucking mess."

"Right now, yeah." A smile spread on her face and she tilted her head so see could look into his eyes between his fingers. "With time, a psychologist and support from friends and me, you'll get better. Trust me."

"Y-you believe I'll get better?"

She nodded. "You're so strong. You've gone through so many things and even though they have hurt you so badly, you're still vertical. You haven't given up. I know you've the drive to get through this."

She had confidence in him. She wanted to help him and she loved him. When nobody saw the potential in him, she saw it. In the midst of bad, bad, and more bad, she saw the fragment of good in him and she believed in him.

He threw his arms around her tiny frame and hugged her wet frame. "I-I don't know what to do now w-when Wes's gone."

Her hand soothingly rubbed his back, efficiently soothing him stroke for stroke. "First, we'll go back to the hospital and get your cast redone," she whispered in his ear. "Then if you want, we could stay here for another day and visit their graves or your old home or do something else. Whatever you want to do, we do it."

He nodded, sniffling and he cringed at his snot getting on her bare shoulder, but she didn't seem to care. "I want to visit him."

"Then we'll visit him." She rocked him in her arms and he felt like for the first time in a really long time, he could relax. Right there enveloped in her arms under the scolding stream of water, he relaxed for the first time since the accident.


	8. Chapter 8

Death child

_Epilogue_

He kneeled on the dirt in front of the majestic family gravestone with large and proud letters stood _Evans_. Underneath stood his parents' and Wes's names with the same year of death.

Five years since the day in the parking lot. A little less than four years since Wes passed on to his final rest. Four years of stumbling through the dark and dealing with his hurt. Four years of crying, screaming and a desire to just self-destruct. To stay in his bed in his storage room and just melt away.

He got fired for it. Joe allowed it far longer than any other boss would have, but eventually, he crossed the line. He found himself unemployed, heartbroken and without a purpose.

"There you are!" Maka jogged up to him in her black professional skirt. She waved the bouquet of white lilies and came to a stop in front of him.

"You found me." She handed over the flowers and he gratefully accepted them, laying them in front of his family's gravestone. From all the word vomit about his family from his mental breakdowns, she managed to remember lilies were his mother's favourite flowers.

"I thought you might be here since we're in L.A." She wrapped her arm around his waist and rubbed his back.

He would've been dead and gone if it weren't for Maka. Every day, she was by his side. She didn't get her apartment she was promised at first. So she took the freedom to move some of her things into his home. It rubbed her father, Spirit, the wrong way majorly and the reality of his darling daughter living in a storage room made him swallow his pride and admitted defeated. Maka got the apartment under certain conditions. He would have a key to the apartment so he could come and visit whenever (but he had to knock first!), Spirit wanted to meet Soul and get to know him before he moved in with her and thirdly and most importantly, Maka had to maintain her straight As or the apartment would be gone.

It had been weird sleeping on a _bed_ and living in a real _home_. Actually sleeping and waking up beside Maka had seemed foreign, but he was so grateful even Maka's totally obsessed and crazy father had even _allowed_ him to share an apartment with her. He knew Maka had a roll in the decision and it just confirmed the reality she loved him immensely. It wasn't all empty words or actions of pity. She really did love him.

It was hard not to keep her at an arm's length. When he broke down, he broke down _hard_ and just vomited out streams of consciousness and hugged her. She had become his last thread keeping him grounded and he hung onto her for his dear life, and she let him. She supported him and took him to a psychologist as soon as possible so he could slowly unravel the horrifying events he had gone through.

She was always there reminding him his life was precious and he was loved; so incredibly loved and he was worthy a life of happiness. Every step of the way, she was there.

After almost a year of going to the psychologist and trying to get his life together, Maka sat him down and showed him a large envelope Anya had swung by and left when he was asleep after getting hit with Black*Star's damned ninja stars. It had contained the written terms for him to start up his own music company along with a personal letter from Anya, encouraging him to follow up on his last name and showing everybody his musical talent. Maka also thought it was a good idea. He was an Evans. Maka had heard the piano pieces he wrote to express his feelings.

Eventually, he did contact Anya.

With the help of Anya's company and his inherit money, Weeping Violin was funded in Wes's honour and it shot toward the skies. It grew with the incoming business from Hepburn Corporation. The surprise hit him when employers from the past Evans Corporation came and sought to work for him, he was beyond touched. Even though he was the least talented and unequipped to run as the CEO for Weeping Violin, they still wanted to work under the wing of an Evans.

There was no way he could've gotten this far without Maka and Anya. Maka juggled her father, homework and later on, an internship. And she still found the time to support him emotionally and physically.

"Anya called," she whispered as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Was she mad?"

"No. Just a little bit antsy." She gave his waist a squeeze. "So are you receiving a pep talk from Wes?"

He snorted and wrapped his arm around her. "Something like that. Just… needed a breather before I walk up the stage."

"You'll do amazing. You raised so much money for your foundation and I know all those children will be so grateful and happy for the instruments and mentors you got. All your hard work will finally pay off." She gazed into his eyes, hers sparkling like emeralds. "I'm so proud of you."

His heart fluttered softly and he brushed her hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

She rose on her toes and kissed him. "You did the hard work." She cupped his cheeks and brushed her thumb over his cheek. "I know Wes and your parents would be very proud of you."

"Yeah." A smile stretched on his face. "They are."

And for once, he meant it and felt the sincerity in his heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thanks for reading Death Child and suffering along side Soul. There will be a one-shot coming up before I completely let this AU go. It will be uploaded in my one-shot series Garden of Fiction.


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